Dead of the Night
by Mediancat
Summary: On the night of Noctus Animortus, the dead rise . . . and when all of her friends are magically forced from Sunnydale Buffy is literally left alone to deal with them.


The Buffy characters belong to Joss. In continuity, this fits in early season 5, before Riley took off.  
  
  
  
"Um, your most eminent of eminences . . ." Dreg began. "Forgive this unworthy one for approaching you, but there is a situation I believe you should be aware of. That is, if you're not aware of it already . . . "  
  
Glory, reclining on her sumptuous bed, clad in yet another tight-fitting leather dress, looked at Dreg irritably. But then, she did everything irritably. Irritation was part of her essence. No one dared to point out to her that she might be a shade less irritable if she traded in the leather dress for sweats and the four-inch spiked heels for tennies, least of all Dreg. "Yes?" She demanded.  
  
"Um, I almost hesitate to bring this up, so unworthy is it of your attention, but has the beauteous and esteemed Glory been keeping track of the calendar?"  
  
"What do I care what day it is?"  
  
"You? Oh, not a care in the universe, oh mighty one, but there are those that do. And among them is has been noted that tonight is a night that occurs but once every four hundred years – give or take. A night when certain magicks of the necromantic variety can be cast, only on a hellmouth . . ." He trailed off as he noticed Glory's glare.  
  
"And what," she said slowly, "Does any of this have to do with me?"  
  
"Oh, nothing directly, oh puissant beauty of all puissant beauties, but tonight the dead can rise and walk if even one person invokes the dead. And this applies to all the dead, human, vampire, demon, and otherwise; if it has consciousness, glory of Glory, it will return to life for the night. But it only seems to apply around regions of strong magic – such as the Hellmouth."  
  
Glory sat up on the bed. "You know, Dreg, you're not nearly as stupid as you look. I see where you're going with this . . ."  
  
Dreg straightened just a bit. "Why, thank you, magnificent Glory. Um, where was I going?"  
  
Once again, Glory glared at him, then straightened. "For some reason, the Slayer has chosen to get in my way. I have no idea why; I'm not a common vampire. But if hundreds of vampires and demons MORE are going to be added to the populace for the night, the Slayer would be too busy running for her life to stop me from searching for the key." She clapped her hands and stood up. "In fact, let's make it harder. Dreg, bring me the exclusion book."  
  
"The . . . exclusion book, oh awesome Glory?"  
  
Sighing, she said, "It's the big red one at the top of the hall closet." Dreg nodded and began to back his way out of the room. Then she rubbed her hands together theatrically. "Let's see how she does protecting the key when she's running for her life."  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Noctus Animortus," Giles said, "Happens once every four hundred and one years, give or take the odd thirty days." He was sitting at the center table of the Magic Box after hours, flanked by Buffy, Xander, Anya and Riley. Willow and Tara were in LA for a witches' convention, staying in Angel's new hotel.  
  
"Terrific," Xander grumbled. "For once why can't one of these 'comes-around- every-millennium' things miss us by a few hundred years?"  
  
"Remind me to tell you at some point about the plague of flying jellyfish due to hit next in 2247," Giles commented. "In any event, one of the effects of Noctos Animortus is that it renders the dead far more sensitive to necromancy. Any spell cast to communicate with or raise any dead intelligent being within a certain radius of a source of magical power --"  
  
"The Hellmouth, ladies and gentlemen!" Xander said with a flourish.  
  
"Exactly," Giles said. "Any spell cast will raise every one of them killed within the past five years. This includes humans, vampires, demons, and so on. They will remain alive for the whole night – unless someone else kills them in the interim, of course. This being the Hellmouth, that's hundreds, possibly thousands –"  
  
"I get the idea," Buffy said. "So we get everyone together and what? Roam around town breaking into homes, gravesites, making sure no one's trying to get the location of the family jewels from old aunt Maureen?"  
  
"Sounds a touch impractical to me," Riley said. Buffy stuck out her tongue.  
  
"Was I killed?" Anya asked.  
  
"I'm sorry, what?"  
  
"Anyanka. Was my demon "killed" when I became Anya?"  
  
Giles started to answer, bit off his response, and thought a bit. "I'd have to say no," he said eventually, "Any more than, say, Angel's demon was killed when he became Angel, though obviously the circumstances are different."  
  
Buffy said, "Besides, technically wasn't the demon quote-unquote killed in another universe? It wouldn't show here anyway."  
  
A bit reluctantly, Anya said, "I guess you're right. I just wouldn't want her to come back now. I was evil, you know. Not that I regret what I did or anything. Um, except for that part when I brought the Willowvampire to town."  
  
There being nothing that could be said to that, Giles said, "Right then. In any event, I had not been about to suggest we prevent thousands of people, demons, vampires, and assorted supernatural beings from practicing necromancy by way of a slap on the wrist and a firm scolding. As it turns out, there's a ritual I've been researching that may be of use – it prevents the casting of necromantic spells within a ten-mile radius. The main problem is it can only be cast after dark, and it must be renewed once an hour."  
  
"So, crisis averted," Xander said, clapping his hands. "Anyone for shuffleboard?"  
  
"Crisis not averted," Giles said. "Part of the problem is that the spell can be cast only once by any given person. Darkness falls this evening officially at 5:31 PM and the sun rises tomorrow morning at 6:33. That's fourteen different times the spell needs to be cast, and there are five of us here. That takes us until 10:31 this evening, so we need to find nine other people to cast the spell."  
  
"Eight," Riley said. "Even if someone does something necromantic between 6:31 and 6:33, the dead won't have time to do much of anything in less than two minutes."  
  
"Eight, then," Giles said. "Anyone have any suggestions?"  
  
"Well, and I can't believe I'm saying this, I say we call Angel," Xander said. "He brings down Wesley, Cordy, Willow and Tara, that's five more." Giles nodded  
  
"I'm wondering if we could rely on Spike for this one . . . ." Buffy mused. Then, seeing the look of horror on everyone's face, she blurted out. "It was just a suggestion!"  
  
"And a poor one," Giles said. "And given your mother's condition –"  
  
"She and Dawn are out of this," Buffy said firmly.  
  
"I wouldn't have dreamed of suggesting otherwise," Giles said gently. " I shall go call Angel forthwith. But that still leaves us three people short." He went to the counter and picked up the phone. When he hung it up he didn't look particularly happy. "Angel is in the middle of a case at the moment; however, Cordelia and Wesley are on their way, as well as Willow and Tara."  
  
"Okay, we need four people . . ." Buffy said. "Anyone have any ideas?"  
  
"Why don't we just go drag people in off the street?" Anya said. "Tell them if they don't read the spell Buffy will slay them." Everyone eyed her suspiciously. "Oh, relax. I wasn't saying she should actually slay them, just threaten to."  
  
"Possibly the best idea you've come up with yet, sweetie," Xander said.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Hold your back still!" Glory commanded, steadying a red tome that must have weighed twenty-five pounds.  
  
"I'm trying, magnificent Glory," Dreg said, laboring to balance the book on his back. "But it's very heavy."  
  
"Was that a complaint?"  
  
"No! No, your gloriousness."  
  
"I thought not. Now hold still." And she barked out five words, snapped a stick, then closed the book with a flourish. "That ought to hold them 'til morning . . . Dreg! Put the book back!"  
  
"Yes, Glory," the long-suffering Dreg said.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Giles finished reading the spell, at 5:33 PM. They hadn't been able to find anyone else yet to intone the spell, but at least now they had eight hours to do so instead of four. "That," Giles gasped out, "Should do it for – and he broke off.  
  
After a second, Buffy looked up from the history book she'd been (reluctantly) studying, and said, "Giles?"  
  
But he didn't answer, because he wasn't there anymore.  
  
Neither was Anya, Xander, or Riley.  
  
"What the hell?" Buffy asked. "Guys! Guys!" She looked at the spellbook, and no, Giles had done the right spell. She then hurried to the front door and looked around.  
  
There was no one in sight. Everyone had vanished.  
  
Buffy looked around in horror, seeing no way this could possibly get any worse.  
  
Then the phone rang. "Hello?"  
  
"Buffy?" It was Dawn, sounding almost tearful. "I was just in here with Mom, making dinner, and she –"  
  
"Disappeared," Buffy interrupted numbly.  
  
It had just gotten worse.  
  
PART 2  
  
"Dawn, Dawn, calm down!" Buffy said.  
  
"What do you mean calm down?" Dawn demanded. "Mom's GONE, you nimrod! Now –"  
  
"Dawn!" Buffy yelled. "Mom's not the only one missing."  
  
"What, what, what?" Dawn said a bit incoherently.  
  
"I mean that EVERYONE seems to have disappeared. Giles, Riley, Anya . . ." right then the door to the Magic Box opened and a man walked through. "Hold on a sec." Buffy walked up and said, "Look, this isn't a good time . . ."  
  
"Not for you," the man said, as he put on a "game face" and leapt to attack.  
  
Buffy ducked and flipped him over the counter. "Hold on just a bit longer," Buffy told Dawn, and put down the phone as the vamp stood up. Buffy punched him in the face, then drew a stake with her other hand. She grabbed the vampire by the hair and pulled him into the counter, then thrust the stake home.  
  
As she brushed the dust off her shirt she picked up the telephone again. "Sorry about that," she breathed. "Vampire decided to come in and play rough."  
  
A bit more calmly, Dawn said, "I don't understand how you can be so calm about this! Everyone's gone!"  
  
"Trust me," Buffy said, "On the inside I'm running around like a lunatic. But that's not going to be very helpful right now."  
  
Taking a few deep breaths, Dawn said, "Yeah, you're right. You're always right."  
  
"In any event, go take a look out the windows – DON'T go outside – and tell me what you see." The sound of the phone clattering to the floor, followed by footsteps. A minute or so later – Buffy having taken the opportunity to peer out the front window of the Magic Box, where she saw no one, but – Dawn came back. "What did you see?"  
  
"A lot of crashed cars," Dawn said. Buffy'd seen the same thing; once whatever this was had run its course the Sunnydale cops were going to have several junkyards' worth of accidents to take care of. "No one shambling about, though."  
  
"Good," Buffy said. "Stay there. I'm coming over."  
  
"You want me to go outside and turn off ignitions?" Dawn asked. Damn. Buffy hadn't even thought of that. If the patterns held there would be hundreds of crashed cars all around town. But she didn't want to risk Dawn to vampires.  
  
Actually, she wasn't sure if a vampire could actually drain Dawn, given what she actually was. But it wasn't a theory she was anxious to put the test.  
  
"No," she said. "Wait 'til I get there and we'll go turn some off together."  
  
"I understand," she said. "Buffy – you will be able to fix this, right?"  
  
"Yeah! Of course! Giles has hundreds of spellbooks here, there has to be something I – we can use."  
  
"Good. See you when you get here."  
  
Buffy checked the clock. 5:45 PM. She grabbed the book Giles had used to cast the anti-necromancy spell, two types of the crystal he'd been holding when he cast it, hustled to the back to pick up some extra weaponry, and ran out the front door.  
  
First step was checking on Dawn – then time to find out where everyone had gone.  
  
She locked the door behind her – Giles had made sure she had a spare key – and ran down the streets of Sunnydale, stopping along the way to turn off every car she saw, at least those that weren't either flaming wrecks (one, fortunately nowhere near anything else flammable) or too damaged to make the ignitions reachable (three). Most of them were in neither condition, though, but turning off fifty-plus cars slowed Buffy's progress homeward. What should have been a twenty-minute walk turned into a forty-minute one, so Buffy was walking into the front door of her Revello Drive home at just past 6:25.  
  
Dawn ran up to her right away. "Hold on a second, Dawn," Buffy said. "I have to cast this spell."  
  
"Will it get us everyone back?" Dawn said.  
  
"No. This has to do with . . . something else that's going on. Pay attention because you might have to do this yourself." Dawn opened her mouth and Buffy said, "NOT NOW. Hold on a second, this is important." Dawn shut up – apparently she was scared enough not to be snippy. For some reason this scared Buffy more than anything else had.  
  
Buffy took out the crystal and sat down at the kitchen table, then opened the book – thank God, it had been written in English -- and looked up at the clock. 6:28. She read over it once more, took a deep breath, held the crystal tightly in her left hand, and began to chant.  
  
When she was done she was out of breath and hoarse, and immediately grabbed a cough drop from a small bowl on the counter. The clock said 6:32 – she'd gotten it done in time, she'd felt the magic flow through her.  
  
So they'd survive another hour of Noctus Animaniac, or whatever Giles had called it. She held up a hand while she caught her breath and sucked on the lozenge, and after a minute said, "Sorry about that."  
  
Blinking a bit in surprise, Dawn said, "So, what was that? I heard something in there about the dead not rising?"  
  
After holding a very fast internal debate as to whether to tell her sister the whole truth, Buffy simply gave in and explained about what tonight meant for necromancers. Normally she wouldn't get Dawn involved, but under the circumstances that attitude was hard to justify. "And considering the mortality rate in Sunnydale –" Dawn gulped. "Yeah. We were running short as it was, and we can only do this spell once each. So we now have to figure out what happened to everyone else –"  
  
"But that's what I was going to tell you when you came in," Dawn interrupted. "Xander called about twenty minutes ago – he was totally surprised that I answered, but I handled myself maturely, I think. Anyway, they're about five miles outside of town."  
  
That surprised Buffy. She hadn't expected this to be so easy. "So why aren't they coming back?"  
  
It wasn't. "They can't. There's apparently a barrier thingy of sorts stopping them. No one's getting through – I told him about your vampire, though." She seemed quite pleased with herself for that.  
  
"Nice catch," Buffy said.  
  
"Yeah, though Giles has no clue what's going on. They gave me a number for you to call them at, though –" she picked up a sticky note –"and told me to tell you to call as soon as you could or you were in big trouble." Buffy gave her the eye. "Okay, I made up the last part."  
  
"No kidding," Buffy said, reaching for the phone.  
  
"Hello?" a deep, male, and unfamiliar voice said.  
  
"This is Buffy Summers . . ." Buffy began.  
  
"Right. Mr. Giles said you'd be calling – I let him borrow my cell phone. Hold on just a sec – there he is."  
  
A few seconds later Giles' voice came through. "Buffy!" he fairly shouted. "Are you all right?"  
  
"Yeah, I am. How about you guys?"  
  
"We're fine," Giles said, calming down some. "Do you have any idea what happened?"  
  
"You all vanished," Buffy said. "Research isn't my long suit, you know that. I did cast the spell a few minutes back, though."  
  
"I figured you would. Buffy, I need you to do something of vital importance right away."  
  
"What do you need?"  
  
"The book," Giles said. "And about a dozen more of the crystals. And we need them in –" a short pause, presumably while he checked his watch – "forty-nine minutes."  
  
"Where are you?" Buffy said.  
  
"One moment – Xander, where are we? – as, thank you. Buffy, we're on the grounds of a farmhouse just off Onion Boulevard. You can't miss us."  
  
Onion, Onion – that was clear the other side of the city! Plus, if they were five miles out – "On my way." Of course, she'd have to borrow mom's SUV. "Dawn, find Mom's keys, we're going to need them." Dawn nodded and went up to Mom's room. "I'm bringing Dawn with me," she added.  
  
Under his breath, Giles said, "How have you explained this to her? Why she wasn't caught in the spell, I mean?"  
  
"I haven't, yet."  
  
"Good. Stall her if she asks. And please hurry, would you? We only have forty-six minutes."  
  
"Giles – look for mom."  
  
"Don't worry, Buffy, we'll find her."  
  
"Please try. Talk to you later." And then a click, and Buffy hung up. Then Dawn came down the stairs, holding Mom's keys dangling from her left hand.  
  
"C'mon, Dawn, we have an errand to run and no way am I leaving you here alone." She grabbed the keys from Dawn's hand and headed for the door.  
  
"Why not? Dawn protested. "Don't you think I can take care of myself?"  
  
"Dawn, I don't have time for this," Buffy said, opening the front door. "I bet if I'd told you you had to stay behind you'd have griped about that."  
  
"Well, of course!" Dawn said. "What are sisters for?"  
  
You're not my sister, Buffy thought, but of course wouldn't have dreamed of saying. "To be aggravating."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
Repressing a sigh, Buffy said, "Let's go." She checked the clock. They had 42 minutes. Should be plenty of time.  
  
Pity that it wasn't . . .  
  
PART 3  
  
Xander looked at Giles after he hung up. "Are you sure if we do our little anti-Night-of-the-Living-Dead spell from here we'll be able to affect the whole town?"  
  
"No."  
  
Xander shot Giles a look. "Ya know, man, we're never gonna get anywhere if you keep giving us these cryptic answers." Anya and Riley were probing the barrier, though by this point they'd pretty much given up on finding any easy way through.  
  
"This is hardly a time for joking, Xander," Giles said.  
  
"Giles, I can either joke or freak out. Take your pick." Giles didn't answer.  
  
Nearly identical looks of irritation on their faces, Riley and Anya came up from where they'd been probing the barrier. "No luck?" Giles asked.  
  
"No, we made it through hours ago. Where the hell have you been?" Anya said humorlessly. Riley simply shook his head no.  
  
Giles swore. Riley then said, "Where's the guy who lent you his cell phone?"  
  
"Gone, I'm afraid," Giles said. "Why?"  
  
"There was someone I could have called, that's all. If you find one, let me know." Then he went back to probe the barrier once again.  
  
"Try to stay within hailing distance," Giles said. Riley nodded as he walked off.  
  
Xander knew there was something bugging Riley, but he wasn't sure what. But he'd been acting kinda off even before he lost his super-soldier serum and had become just plain ol' Steve Rogers again, and Xander'd been trying to keep an eye on him, in case – in case the guy needed help.  
  
Anyway, that wasn't feeding the bulldog in the here and now. The problem was, Buffy had the crystals, Buffy had the magic book, all they could do was mark time and –  
  
Wait. "Giles, what's the main way into town from LA?" Anya had by now come over and settled her head on Xander's shoulder.  
  
"The exit off the interstate, I believe; why do you ask?"  
  
"Because I want to intercept Cordy and company before they smash into the barrier." And of course Willow and Tara might be able to do more about the barrier than the rest of them could.  
  
Giles nodded. "Right. Good idea. And the more heads we have here, the more likely we are to solve the problem."  
  
"I'm on it," Xander said, and turned to go. Anya started to walk with him, and Xander said, "You stay here, An. Giles might need you to read the spell. You have more experience at that than the rest of us."  
  
Anya said, "Oh all right," but Xander could tell she was pleased by the compliment. "Just try not to get eaten by any slime demons, okay?"  
  
"My top priority," Xander said as he ran off.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Well, Dreg? Glory demanded. "What's it like out there? Chaos, mayhem, a lot of irritated vampires?" She grabbed his ears and shook his head. "Tell me there're irritated vampires, Dreg. It wouldn't be good for my self- esteem to know I'd gone through all that and there were no. Irritated. Vampires." She threw Dreg away.  
  
He stumbled and said, "Um, well, almighty one –"  
  
"You really don't want to see me when I'm low on self-esteem, Dreg."  
  
"I am sure, wondrous Glory, that there's chaos and mayhem somewhere . . . but it doesn't look like the dead have risen yet, I offer my life –"  
  
"Stuff a sock in it, Dreg." Glory stepped over to the window to look out.  
  
"Right away, magnificent one." Glory could hear Dreg's footsteps fading. On looking out the window – which offered a spectacular view – she saw precious little mayhem. A couple of vampires wandered by down below, seeming more listless than anything else.  
  
Calling down to them, Glory said. "You. Vampires! Why aren't you out killing people?"  
  
"No one to kill," the shorter of the two said. "All the humans are gone."  
  
Glory shook her head, then kicked a flowerpot into smithereens. This did not put her in her happy place. She waved the vampires away and called back, "Dreg!"  
  
"Yff, mnnfesnn Gwrry?" Dreg said.  
  
"Dreg, if I turn around and you actually have a sock in your mouth –"  
  
"Uh corth n—" a spitting sound – "I mean, of course not, vision of loveliness, power of powers. I knew you were only joking."  
  
"Get me the book of the dead." Dreg said nothing, and irritably, Glory said, "It's the big black book right below the red book."  
  
"Right away, vision of perfection. Shall I get you a table to place the book on?"  
  
"Why would you do that? Your back worked fine enough last time."  
  
"Yes, Glory," Dreg said as he walked off.  
  
* * * * *  
  
7:05 PM. They had about 28 minutes or so, and they were at The Magic Box. Buffy and Dawn quickly scooped up all of the crystals they needed for the spell, and then hustled to see if there were any books nearby that could help Giles puzzle out the barrier. Buffy grabbed one, and Dawn found a matched pair. "Ready?" Buffy asked Dawn.  
  
"Yeah," Dawn said. "I guess – Buffy!" Buffy spun and looked at the front door. Three vampires were walking through it. "Since when did this place become vampire party central?"  
  
"Since you two became the only victims we can find," one of the vampires said. "We saw you walk in."  
  
Buffy shrugged. "Makes sense. Dawn! Behind me!" Dawn needed no prompting and was already towards the back of the store. Buffy yanked out her stake as the vamps attacked.  
  
As always, no sense of teamwork; it was like fighting the guys in a kung fu movie where they came at you one at a time. The first one rushed her; Buffy flipped him up onto the table and staked him. Then she jumped onto the table to avoid the attack of the second one, leapt in the air again to avoid a blow, then kicked him in the face.  
  
The third one was a half point smarter; instead of going for Buffy he moved towards Dawn. Buffy took a step and dove off the table, taking him down (and inadvertently knocking over a candle display). "I'm the only one that gets to take shots at her," Buffy muttered. The vamp responded to this witticism by smacking her in the face.  
  
"Nothing worse than an unappreciative audience," Buffy said, and staked him. When she got up the second vampire had cornered Dawn. Before Buffy could tear him off, though, an arm snaked around the corner, and tossed the vamp across the room. Spike? Not wanting to look a gift demon in the mouth, Buffy promptly slammed the vamp's head into the floor, and then staked it. "I suppose a thank you is in order."  
  
"No it's not," Spike growled. "No one gets to kill you except me. Same goes for little sister here." Dawn squirmed away from Spike and ran across the room and stood next to Buffy. "Do you have any idea what the hell's going on, Slayer? You and your sis are the only human beings I've seen in Sunnyhell in the last hour and a half."  
  
"I have no clue, Spike," Buffy said, checking the clock. They had 21 minutes. "I also don't have time for an extended conversation. Tonight's Noctus Animortus."  
  
"Oh, you're kidding me. Tell me you're bleeding kidding me."  
  
"Not kidding, sorry. Also don't have time for an extended conversation. So if you'll excuse me –" She and Dawn started to edge to the door.  
  
"Buffy!" Spike said. "Look. This can be dangerous, especially with no other of you blooded types around to provide distractions but you and sis. Tell you what, for the right price I'll watch your back."  
  
"What's in it for you?" Dawn demanded.  
  
"I told you. So I can be the one to kill you later."  
  
Buffy snorted. "Thanks for the – charming offer, Spike, but as long as I get these crystals to Giles Noctus Animortus is never going to get off the ground. So thanks, but no thanks –" she gestured for Spike to leave in front of them.  
  
Shrugging, Spike said, "Your loss," and walked out. Buffy and Dawn practically ran into him on the way out, because he'd come to a dead stop just outside the shop door. Buffy looked around him and found why -- a half dozen more vampires had ringed the entrance. "Are you sure you don't want to take me up on that offer?" Spike asked.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Glory read through the book of the dead and then checked something. "Dreg!" she said, picking the book up and tossing it onto the bed.  
  
"Yes, mighty Glory?" Dreg said, straightening up.  
  
"There's a small ritual at the front of the book here. Perform it for me."  
  
Dreg nodded. "Immediately, all-encompassing one." He went over to pick up the book and began to read it over.  
  
"But not in here," Glory said. "I don't want me to be anywhere nearby in case it misfires."  
  
Closing the book, Dreg said, "Yes, Glory," and left the room. Glory passed the time by studying her shoe collection. Not hearing any explosions, she presumed Dreg to be performing it successfully. When he came back in, he said, "There is a suppression spell in place, oh most wise Glory to have thought of checking. No necromancy can be cast while the spell is in effect. But there is good news, glorious one! The spell runs out in eighteen minutes."  
  
"Yes, and they'll be ready to cast another one. I am not having a good day, Dreg!" She thought for a moment. "Look on the hundredth page and be ready to cast it the second the suppression spell falters."  
  
"Certainly, Glory."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Buffy'd had to take Spike up on his offer, of course, for the sake of expediency if nothing else. But by the time the new half-dozen vamps were dead and the lot of them were in the SUV they had a bare fourteen minutes left. Spike came along, hopping in the backseat, and Buffy didn't have time to argue. "Dawn," she said. "Get out a crystal and turn the book to the right page."  
  
"Sure," Dawn said, flipping frantically. "What page was that?"  
  
"Um, in the middle of the book . . . it was called the spell of suppressing the dead."  
  
In a bored voice, Spike said, "Does the book have an index, maybe? Or a table of contents?" Dawn turned to the back of the book first, then the front. Then she quickly thumbed through the pages until she found the right one. "Got it!" She said.  
  
"Read it over, then. You may have to do this sometime in the next twelve minutes."  
  
"You know, I always thought my first spell was going to be something minor," Dawn grumped.  
  
"Yeah, well, we're the Summers girls; life doesn't usually hand us what we expect. Now read."  
  
"Reading," Dawn said.  
  
After a couple of minutes Spike said, "You know, Buffy, if you really wanted to beat the speed record to this Onion Boulevard you'd let me drive. No offense, but I've been doing this longer than you have," Spike said.  
  
"No offense taken, but I've let you into my mother's house and her car, I'm not going to let you drive it."  
  
"Suit yourself." Then he muttered something under his breath.  
  
Remembering it later, Buffy would swore she'd never taken her eyes off the road. It was a tricky drive, with all of the crashed and drifting cars, and Buffy wasn't the best driver to begin with. But as she turned to say something to Spike Dawn yelled out "Watch out!" And there was a pileup on the road in front of them. Buffy swerved to avoid it a little too far.  
  
And wound up running off the road and onto the grounds of U-Sunnydale, where she finally regained control of the car in time to avoid a grove of trees. She finally brought it to a stop next to an abandoned dormitory and checked her watch. Damn! "Dawn!" She said. "Seven minutes! You're going to have to perform it."  
  
"Okay. I need a flat surface and somewhere to sit!" Dawn yelled.  
  
"Right. Follow me. Spike – watch the car. If the dead rise, feel free to get out of the neighborhood." Buffy sprinted to the nearest classroom building, where she threw open the door and hustled into the nearest classroom. "There's the desk. Go."  
  
But Dawn was in such a hurry that she stumbled over the words. 'I don't know if I can do this!" She was almost hyperventilating."  
  
"Dawn. Calm. Calm. You can do this, I know you can. Now grab the crystal . . . come on, you can do it . . ." And she calmly guided Dawn through the spell. This time, no screwups. And when it was over, Dawn was out of breath and exhausted, but happy.  
  
"I did it, didn't I?" She asked.  
  
Buffy looked at the clock on the wall. 7:32 PM. One minute too late – maybe. What were the odds that someone had cast a spell at just that moment? So Buffy made a show of lack of enthusiasm. "Yeah. Sure. You did great, kid. For my barely literate little sister, that is."  
  
Dawn snorted. Buffy scooped up the crystals and the book, and they both went back to the SUV. As the two of them approached the abandoned college building Buffy was struck by a sense that she'd been there before, but she couldn't quite place where. And then she heard a voice she couldn't quite place behind her. "Well. What do we have here? It looks like a Slayer. And this time, she's brought a friend." The voice was sarcastic, female and monotone, as though someone had turned Janeane Garofalo into a vampire. Buffy turned around . . .  
  
"Sunday," she breathed.  
  
Buffy had failed.  
  
Noctus Animortus had begun.  
  
  
  
PART 4  
  
  
  
Buffy tried to regain her equilibrium. "It IS Sunday, right? I mean, I've killed so many of you . . ."  
  
The vampire gave a small grin. "Back from the dead for one night only and rarin' to go."  
  
"I don't have time for this," Buffy said, keeping Dawn behind her. Of course, Spike was nowhere to be found.  
  
Sunday gestured to the four other vamps that had crept up around her. "Look around, sweetcheeks. I think you do." Four of her underlings – Buffy hesitated to call them "minions" – cheered and waved in agreement and began walking towards Buffy.  
  
"Well, then, come on," Buffy said impatiently. "If you wanna waste your one night of life taking on a Slayer . . ." The four vamps hesitated, and Sunday gave them all dirty looks.  
  
"Yeah!" Dawn said. "Buffy'll kick ALL of your asses!"  
  
"Dawn, no helping!" Buffy hissed. And three of the four approached as Buffy groaned. Of course, she'd been trying to get them to back off so she could get Dawn to safety – though she had no idea what would actually BE safety during this real-life Night of the Living Dead. The only good thing was that Sunday was holding back. It seemed death hadn't altered her style any. Well, that and the fourth one, who was running off into the distance. "Seems you're losing your support there, Sunday," Buffy said, dodging the first attack.  
  
"As clever lines go, that wasn't."  
  
"I'm under pressure at the moment," Buffy said. "Sorry about that." The second one – the overweight girl – charged straight at her, while the third, the '80s refugee, went for her legs. Buffy jumped to avoid it, and grabbed the woman's head, vaulting over her while throwing her to the ground.  
  
Sunday, with a smirk on her face, said, "How very Xena of you." Dawn had crept up to the SUV, but Sunday and her crew apparently weren't interested in her. Thank the gods for small favors.  
  
Buffy got out a stake and killed '80s vamp, then said. "If you're expecting me to do a scream you're going to be sorely disappointed." She kicked the first one in the chest, then slammed the woman's head into the side of the building. As she went to stake her the first one grabbed her from behind, and the woman hit her in the face twice before she could break free.  
  
She kneed her in the stomach, threw her to the ground, and staked her before she could rise. Then she rolled to avoid being hit by a crowbar wielded by the last remaining vamp, and scrambled to her feet to dodge a second blow. Dawn was now in the car, and Sunday was still standing back.  
  
The vampire, a bit overconfident with a weapon in its hand, swung twice more, blows Buffy easily dodged. On the third, she grabbed the crowbar with her left hand and yanked the vamp forward into her waiting right fist. He crumpled like a falling house of cards, and it wasn't even an effort for Buffy to stake it.  
  
Sunday stood there and applauded mockingly. "Oh, nicely done," she said sarcastically.  
  
Buffy said, "Is there ANYTHING to you but attitude?"  
  
Shrugging, Sunday said, "It's gotten me this far."  
  
"It got you KILLED. Or don't you remember my stake plunging through your heart?" Buffy said, snorting.  
  
"Oh, I remember," Sunday said, voice taking a menacing tone. "And soon enough you won't." She leapt to attack.  
  
Buffy stepped backwards and slammed the crowbar into the side of Sunday's head. As the vampire staggered, Buffy brought it down on the base of her skull, bringing her down. "You're cheating," Sunday mumbled as Buffy flipped her over.  
  
"You think I killed this many of you playing fair, sweetcheeks?" Buffy said in Sunday's own mocking tone before staking her. She wiped off the crowbar, took out the keys, and hopped into the SUV.  
  
"I . . . I don't think I've ever seen you so nasty," Dawn said as Buffy started the car.  
  
What to say? "She always pissed me off. Sunday was one of the few vampires to beat me, even once." As she spoke she drove the SUV off campus the fastest way possible, heading slowly for Onion Boulevard.  
  
"You . . . fought her before?" Shit. Dawn hadn't caught on that the spell hadn't been in time, at least not until now.  
  
Putting the best brave face on it she could, Buffy said, "Yeah, and I kicked her ass at the end of it. So don't worry."  
  
"The spell didn't work."  
  
Buffy sighed. "No, it just wasn't on time."  
  
"S-so, hundreds or thousands of vampires and demons are out there waiting to kill us now!" Dawn was on the verge of hysterics.  
  
"Another Saturday night in Sunnydale," Buffy said. "Nothing to worry about."  
  
Well, Dawn stopped the hysterics, but the look of scorn she shot Buffy could have hardly been called an improvement. "Quit talking down, Buffy. I'm not a little kid anymore."  
  
"I'm not trying to be patronizing, Dawn, honest. I just don't see the point in freaking out about it." Buffy gave a wan smile. "And trust me, don't go thinking it was your fault."  
  
"Oh, I don't. It was yours."  
  
Stung despite herself, Buffy said, "Way to be supporto girl there, Dawn." As Dawn opened her mouth to speak, Buffy snapped, "Never mind. Just be quiet for now. We've got nearly eleven hours until the sun rises and all of . . . Oh. My. God."  
  
Dawn didn't answer, also gaping at the monstroid pileup. This time, though, Buffy brought the SUV to a stop smoothly instead of running off the road. There must have been a couple of dozen cars, all plowed into the back of an overturned tractor-trailer, and there was fuel leaking EVERYWHERE. Buffy pulled around it and slowly began to nudge her way down Onion Boulevard, until she saw the entire Scooby gang plus Cordelia and Wesley all yelling "STOP!" and frantically waving their arms.  
  
Buffy slammed on the brakes, grabbed the armload of magic books, and jumped from the driver's seat. A second later, Dawn followed her. They both stopped when Giles and company made halting signs. Buffy slowly moved her arm forward and it very quickly struck something invisible, kind of squishy, but definitely not inclined to let her pass through. She stopped pressing and looked up at her friends. Damn. Cordy, Wesley, Willow and Tara must have busted landspeed records getting down here. Definitely Cordelia doing the driving.  
  
"What happened?" Giles asked.  
  
"Chalk it up to my bad driving," Buffy said. "We didn't get the spell off in time."  
  
"Any repercussions?"  
  
"Let me put it this way. I just fought Sunday."  
  
"I think she bumped her head," Cordelia said. "Any minute now we'll see her squaring off against 1997."  
  
"I KNEW that year was evil," Xander said. Anya, giving Cordelia the evil eye, moved closer to her boyfriend.  
  
"No – no. You mean the vampire named Sunday, correct?"  
  
"Hold it," Willow said. "Isn't that the bad Daria clone from the beginning of freshman year?" Buffy nodded glumly. "The one you killed?" Buffy nodded again.  
  
"So Noctus Animortus has begun," Giles said. Riley moved forward as though to give Buffy a hug, them remembered the barrier and backed off. He looked unhappy, though.  
  
"Then, um, whoever threw everyone out of the town was doing us a favor," Tara said. Then, catching Buffy's eye, she amended, "Most of us."  
  
"I would seriously doubt that," Wesley said. "Because whoever expelled everyone else quite deliberately left Buffy and her sister inside. I'd tend to think it wasn't being done to protect us –"  
  
"But to trap Buffy – and maybe Dawn," Riley said. On hearing her name, Dawn moved closer to Buffy, as though simply being close to her big sister could protect her.  
  
"Yes," Wesley said uncomfortably. Buffy and Giles looked at each other for a second with equal expressions of horror. The expulsion spell, whatever it had been, had thrown every human being out of Sunnydale – EXCEPT HER. Dawn wasn't human, but only she, her mom and Giles knew that. Wesley continued, "Who in Sunnydale would have that kind of power?"  
  
Giles said, "Glory," as if it was a cuss word.  
  
"Beg pardon?" Wesley said.  
  
"Glory. A . . . power of an undetermined sort, extremely strong physically, who has taken the shape of a tall blonde woman with a rather nasty attitude. She's seeking something she calls . . . the key."  
  
"I suppose it's too much to hope she's just looking for buried treasure," Cordelia said.  
  
Xander said ,"WAY too much, Cor."  
  
"Then why would she trap Buffy in there with everyone?" Willow asked. "Why not toss her out with the rest of us and leave the town wide open for her search?"  
  
"And for that matter, why do it tonight?" Riley asked.  
  
Anya said, "Revenge," at the same time Buffy said, "To keep me busy protecting . . . what was that?"  
  
"Revenge," Anya said, "Trust me, after over a thousand years as a vengeance demon I know an act of revenge when I see it." No one else spoke. "Look. Buffy's screwed with Glory twice already, and she's obviously not the nicey- nice type. Kinda reminds me of me in my –" Xander nudged her. "Right. So by making sure Buffy has to spend the night running away from hordes of slavering vampires Glory gets a free hand in looking for this "Key," plus the satisfaction of watching Buffy likely get beaten within an inch of her life or even killed." Buffy wasn't sure whether to praise Anya for her reasoning or give her a dirty look for her casual callousness. She was saved the choice when Xander nudged Anya again and she said, "Not that I think that's good, necessarily."  
  
"I know," Buffy said. And Anya's reasoning made perfect sense except –  
  
"That doesn't explain Dawn, though," the ex-demon continued, and everyone thought for a minute.  
  
Giles hemmed and hawed for a moment, when Cordelia saved he and Buffy from having to explain it by saying, "It's obvious. If Buffy's both running for her life AND protecting her little sister, she certainly won't have any time to get in this Glory's way."  
  
"You never cease to amaze me, Cordy," Buffy said. Anya stood there, hands on hips, and made unhappy noises until Buffy added, "You either, Anya."  
  
"That's better," Anya said.  
  
"Anyway," Buffy said. "We need to work on a way of getting Dawn out of here, and also try to find Mom. So . . . " Riley caught Buffy's eye and mouthed the words, "I'll find her."  
  
"I'm in favor of getting out of here," Dawn said, speaking for the first time.  
  
Buffy held the books forward, and they went through the barrier. Her fist, however, did not. "What are these?" Giles said, as he, Willow and Wesley each picked up a book.  
  
"They're about magical shields – and, and teleporting," she said as Willow waved her book in the air.  
  
"Teleporting is extremely dangerous," Giles said, and Wesley agreed.  
  
Tara said, "I've done it." Everyone turned to look at her. "But, um, only a handful of flowers, nothing as big as Dawn is. But I could try."  
  
"Unless there are no other alternatives –" Giles began, but was interrupted by howls of rage and anger from behind the sisters. Buffy spun to look –  
  
Seven vampires, and Buffy'd seen most of them before, trailed by a wolfy Veruca and a demon Buffy had killed a few years back.  
  
Buffy turned. "There are no other alternatives. Tara, try it." Dawn took them and stood very still, as close to the barrier as she could.  
  
Tara took a deep breath, grabbed a handful of grass, and began to speak a few words of power as Buffy braced for the onslaught.  
  
PART 5  
  
  
  
Glory stood on her balcony and looked out. This . . . this was what she'd had in mind. There were irritated vampires, demons, and a few humans all milling about down below, though in the humans' case they were mostly running for their lives.  
  
Mostly, but not completely. Here and there a few were fighting back, not always well, but they were fighting. All the better; now her hunt for the key would be unfettered.  
  
She felt a wave of self-esteem washing through her and smiled. This was good. This was VERY good. "Dreg!" she called.  
  
"Yes, Glory?" Dreg said nervously behind her.  
  
"Relax, Dreg! Things are going well. Now, bring the car around – and find me a good magic shop!"  
  
"Of course, wondrous Glory. Um, is there anything you'll be needing from the closet?"  
  
Preoccupied with the chaos beneath her, it took Glory a few seconds to respond. "What? Oh, no, no. You can put the books back. What I need next – I have in my head." There was an excitement building inside her. She could do this. She could find the key.  
  
And then, watch out world!  
  
Yeah, she knew it sounded melodramatic, but she didn't care.  
  
Glory was in her happy place.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Tara took a couple of seconds to reread the relevant parts – thank goodness they'd been waiting under a streetlight – and, grass in hand, chanted. Willow offered her hand, which Tara gratefully took. She could do this, she could do this –  
  
"There, here! Here, there!"  
  
The grass vanished from her hand, at the same time Dawn vanished from her position against the shield. In the recesses of her mind, she was dimly aware of Giles, Xander, Wesley and Riley looking for ways to help Buffy.  
  
Something was wrong; they weren't reappearing. She concentrated hard, willing all of her – and Willow's – magical energy into completing the spell.  
  
"There, here! Here, there!"  
  
And Dawn popped into place in front of her –  
  
Which was the last thing she registered before she fell to the ground unconscious.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Willow yelled, "Tara!" and took a step, then wobbled and staggered a few feet before Cordelia ran up to catch her. Anya ran over to look at Tara, with Dawn following.  
  
"Well, she's out," the ex-demon said. "Breathing, though."  
  
"Willow?" Cordelia asked gently. "What happened?" Xander passed them by and grabbed a rock; Buffy, inside the barrier, started slugging away at the vampires.  
  
"I'm not sure," Willow said. "Something like Dawn being a lot heavier than we would have thought." She tried to stand up and had to grab Cordelia's shoulders to keep from falling back down. Dawn ran over as well.  
  
"Whoa there," Cordelia said. "Don't want you joining the ranks of the unconscious too."  
  
"It's okay, Willow," Dawn said. "You'll be okay."  
  
"Thanks," Willow said. "Now -- I want to check on her," Willow said firmly. In the background, the fight continued.  
  
Blunt as always, Anya said, "Then crawl, because we're not letting you up." Cordelia shot her a dirty look, then told Willow to hold on. She grabbed the witch's left arm and put it around her shoulder with Dawn taking the other side, then took a step forward, then a baby step, and slowly let Willow sink to the ground next to her girlfriend. Anya said, "Well, I guess that'd work too."  
  
Breathing a huge sigh of relief, Willow said, "She's okay – she's just going to have to sleep it off." She put a hand to her head. "Not that I don't feel like that myself . . . "  
  
"Well, we can't let you do it here," Cordelia said. "Dawn, Anya, help me get them into the car."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Dawn vanished from just behind her as the first vampire got there. This one was all fangs and attitude, no fighting style at all; Buffy took care of him without even blinking.  
  
That brought three of the other ones up short, but the other couple of vamps, the demon, and Veruca kept right on charging. Damn. Buffy couldn't hold her position or she'd be overwhelmed. She flipped the next vampire over her head –  
  
Where it crashed into the barrier and slid slowly to the ground. Then Buffy hurdled the charging Veruca and punched the demon in the face. Veruca smashed into the barrier as well.  
  
Riley, Giles and Wesley all had long branches with hastily sharpened points – aha! Buffy knew what they were up to. Riley turned the first vampire Buffy'd thrown into ashes.  
  
One of the smarter ones figured out something was up, and when Wesley poked his stick through grabbed the stick and pulled him into the barrier, twice, before Wesley let go of his branch.  
  
Then Buffy lost track of how everyone else was doing, because she was too busy fighting for her life. Veruca leapt on top of her again; avoiding the bites was top priority, of course. One of the vamps took advantage of Buffy's distraction and grabbed hold of her from behind, pulling her clear of Veruca for a second.  
  
Damn good thing these critters weren't working together or she'd've been dead meat on a stick. Buffy kicked Veruca in the chin as hard as she could, then twisted as hard as she could out of the grasp of the vampire dragging her. She kept rolling until he should get to her feet, shook her head, then rammed the vampire against the shield –  
  
Where it turned into dust? Riley was there, and Buffy quickly blew him a kiss before turning to the rest of the fight.  
  
Veruca was actually mixing it up with one of the vampires, who Buffy now recognized as one of Harmony's old minions. The demon was the next visible threat, with two of the other vampires also hanging around, and noticeably staying well away from the barrier. Giles and the rest of the gang, now including Cordelia and Anya – where were Will and Tara? A little magic would've been a lot of help – were reduced to tossing rocks.  
  
Their aim was good, but it wasn't doing more than distracting the demon. Damn. "Giles!" She yelled as the demon. "What do I do?" Buffy blocked a fist that felt like a block of granite, then lashed out at the closer knee.  
  
"Nothing specific," Giles called back. "Just kill it!"  
  
"Never would have thought of that," Buffy grumbled; then the demon picked her up and threw her against the barrier. "Willow!" she called out as she rolled to her feet.  
  
From the front seat of a nearby car, a woozy voice called out, "Yeah?"  
  
"Are you up to a fire spell?" She took off running and the demon followed her.  
  
"Yeah, I think. Same one as at the beach, right?"  
  
"When I say now, where I point."  
  
Willow said nothing, apparently conserving her energy. She really didn't sound so good; Buffy hoped she was up to this.  
  
Also that she was. She led the chase past Veruca and her foe, and deliberately got them to chase her as well. One of the other two vampires got involved, but the second was nowhere to be seen. Maybe Buffy'd caught a break and he was headed for the hills, but she doubted it. She scrambled for the pileup, almost slipping on the leaking gasoline, and jumped atop the overturned tractor trailer. The demon clambered up after her, as did one of the vamps; Veruca jumped up a few seconds later, while the other vampire circled around behind the truck. The third was still out of sight – no, there he was, heading off down the street.  
  
A minor stroke of luck. Buffy called out, "Willow, on 5!" And then started counting quietly to herself. Five. She wheeled and kicked the approaching demon in the stomach, then pushed him into the charging vampire. Four. The two of them tumbled off into the middle of the pileup. Veruca stopped and sniffed. Three. Buffy no longer cared about that; she ran to the far end of the truck on two and leapt off, putting all her strength into the jump.  
  
She landed on one and took a couple of steps –  
  
As the gasoline exploded, throwing her to the ground. Buffy looked back and saw both vampires catch fire and explode in a cloud of dust; the demon howled once in pain and then collapsed back into the wreckage. Hadn't worked completely, though; Veruca, though her fur was ablaze, had apparently made it down from the top of the overturned truck and was now rolling around in the dirt trying to put out the flames.  
  
Buffy had to take advantage of the situation. She ran up to Veruca as the werewolf rolled around and broke her neck. No thunder this time, either. Either Willow'd been telling the truth back at the beach about not being responsible for the rainstorm or her skills had improved.  
  
Good thing, too, because they didn't want the fire spreading any further. She ran up to the barrier and said, "How is everyone?" Giles was over by the car.  
  
Cordelia spoke first. "Tara's out and Willow's almost there. Did you really need the big boom?"  
  
"It got the job done faster," Buffy said. "Anything wrong with them?"  
  
Giles jogged up. "Nothing rest won't cure. I wouldn't advise asking Willow to cast any more spells though." He looked at the flaming wreckage. "Though how we're going to get the fire out, now –"  
  
"I can handle it," Willow said, leaning heavily on the frame, then muttered a word of power and pointed at the conflagration. The fire died down immediately, and Willow plopped back into the seat, almost unconscious. Anya went over and laid her down gently on the seat, then came back.  
  
"We need to find a way to stop cars from entering the area," Buffy said. "Riley?"  
  
"I'm on it," her boyfriend said wearily. "I think I know someone who knows someone who could block the way into Sunnydale."  
  
Xander asked, "Old Initiative pals o' yours?'  
  
Without inflection, Riley said, "You didn't hear that from me." Then he took off around the perimeter.  
  
"I think it would be advisable for you to go to ground, Buffy," Wesley said. "There's a potential of hundreds of encounters like this tonight – and even you are not indestructible."  
  
"I tend to agree," Giles said.  
  
"And what about the town?" Buffy said. "If I hide out for the next ten hours or so who know what'll be left in the morning?"  
  
"Everything in the town can be replaced, Buff," Xander said. "You can't."  
  
"Exactly," Giles said.  
  
"Okay, okay," Buffy said. "But if I'm attacked I'm still fighting back."  
  
"We wouldn't have it any other way."  
  
Buffy quickly said goodbye to everyone, assured Dawn she'd be okay, and headed back for the SUV. She's lay low, alright, not that she was happy about it. But they were right – trying to slug it out like this would have been suicide.  
  
So she headed back home. She didn't have any accidents, but she did notice a large number of vampires and demons roaming the streets – and a couple of humans fighting back as best they could, but no one Buffy recognized. Of course, with every dead vamp in town seeing the SUV, and some of them no doubt also seeing her, she couldn't just drive straight home or she'd've been begging for some arson-minded demon to torch her house. So she abandoned it on a side street and began making her way to Revello.  
  
But as she rounded the corner she was blindsided by a vampire lying in wait behind a tree, who backhanded her into the middle of the street. He was big, had a mustache, dressed something like a biker, she recognized him . . .  
  
"Little girl," he said in a vaguely southern accent. "Are you ready to face judgment?"  
  
Then he attacked.  
  
PART 6  
  
Spike had, of course, made for the trees when he saw the vampires appearing all around him. Not out of cowardice; he had nothing to fear from most of the one-night-stands popping up all over the landscape, though there were certainly a couple who'd want to do him dirt if they got the chance.  
  
But after a half hour or so of waiting in the shadows, he remembered where he was –  
  
On the campus of the University of Sunnydale.  
  
Right over the headquarters of the goddamned Initiative.  
  
Where there were doctors who might be able to take this chip out of his head.  
  
He ran immediately for the dormitory that had housed one of the secret entrances down to the Initiative and snuck in the front door. Last time he'd been in there, with Buffy and her pals back when they took down that big Frankenstein wannabe, Adam. God, what a bouffe that wanker had turned out to be. One little spell and the Slayer just rips his heart clean from his chest.  
  
Anyway, if he was right the entrance was . . . there! All the cheap bastards'd done was cover it up with some pasteboard. The military mind never ceased to amaze him in its capacity for doing things the cheapest way possible. Not that Spike was actively complaining at the moment, mind. The US Army's lowest-bid strategy got him down below a lot faster than any of his alternatives would, and at considerably less risk to himself. No, wait; while the shaft was still open they'd gotten rid of the cable and it was a good hundred feet to the bottom.  
  
Of course he'd survive the fall, but he didn't feature spending several days at the bottom of the shaft waiting for his bones to heal; he wouldn't be too intimidating rattling out threats from a busted mouth on top of a shattered body.  
  
So he took the hard way down, holding onto the walls by his fingertips, nearly slipping off twice, but making it all the way without falling. The elevator door at the bottom was a lot harder to pry open, but –  
  
Oh yeah, baby. Let's hear it for the old Spike muscles. He stepped through –  
  
Into chaos. There were dozens of monsters down here. Spike fought off the urge to swear at his own stupidity. Of course the critters down here would've resurrected along with everyone else – and right now they were busy in a pitched battle with the soldiers that had ALSO come back to life.  
  
Bleeding hell. He hadn't figured on slugging his way through a war zone.  
  
Well, as things stood now he had three alternatives. Either he could climb back up the elevator shaft and say fuck it to his thoughts of getting the chip out, or he could try to fight his way through the crowd, or he could try to slip around the edges and hope nobody noticed. He looked up at the shaft and figured his odds of climbing back up without turning himself into street pizza, then looked at the brutes and soldiers out there in the main drag doing their damnedest to slaughter each other with teeth, claws, and automatic weaponry.  
  
Option three was looking better and better every second. He began to creep around the perimeter.  
  
Of course, even if he found a surviving scientist there remained the problem of how exactly he'd force the bugger to remove the chip.  
  
Spike ducked as a vampire came flying past, followed by two soldiers who luckily didn't see him. Then he slipped down a side passage as fast as he could, dodging bullets, humans, and once, a demon who seemed to have mistaken him for his mum, who he'd hated with a burning passion. It must have taken him a good half hour to creep to the laboratory sections, where with any luck the scientists would be waiting. He turned the corner and --  
  
No one was there.  
  
At least, no one alive. But several of the doctors were, all dead.  
  
As well as their killer.  
  
"Hello, Spike," Adam said. "It is good to see you."  
  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
The vampire's first punch caught Buffy on the jaw, knocking her back down. Now Buffy recognized him – this was the guy they'd all thought was the anointed one, WAY back when in her first two months in Sunnydale. The Biblethumper, she'd always called him, not knowing his real name. She recovered and punched him in the face; he reacted to the blow but didn't seem to show any pain. Right, this one had been crazy. It had been funny later, the concept of a Biblethumping vampire, but he'd been one tough SOB to kill and this had been why.  
  
"I have been reborn," the Biblethumper said proudly. "All over the graves are opening and we are coming back to life. It is Judgment Day." He threw a punch that Buffy blocked, and another one that clipped her on the temple. In return, she kicked him in the stomach, wheeled and kicked him in the jaw. "And you, little girl, have been judged and found wanting. He has told me to drink the blood of the wicked!"  
  
"Start with yourself," Buffy muttered as she stepped back to take stock of the situation. No one else around, which was good. Buffy was already a bit tired from five fights in the last three hours; she'd have a hard time handling it if the Biblethumper had brought any allies. "Wassamatter?" Buffy said mockingly. "No converts?" They tussled for a few seconds, then split apart.  
  
"None have been worthy," the Biblethumper said, then punched Buffy in the nose. Blood began to drip down her face, getting in her mouth. She spat it out and charged forward, knocking him to the ground, then kicked him in the head. He rolled over and sprang to his feet. "All who have been judged have been found wanting," he said. "But I was not able to drink their blood; they were cold and dead inside. But you – you are full of warmth and life. A life you are not worthy of having. Accept his judgment!" Suddenly his hands shot out and he lifted Buffy off the ground and began to strangle her.  
  
As she gasped for air, she tried to kick him in the stomach but could only get off a feeble blow. She made ready to try to split the Biblethumper's arms –  
  
When he suddenly exploded into dust. Buffy plopped to the street and began gasping for breath, then felt a strong arm hauling her to her feet.  
  
Forrest grumbled, "Back one night and I gotta save your sorry ass."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Riley ran around the barrier, happy to be by himself for once. He'd never really been a group person; he liked Buffy's friends but preferred not to have to work with them if he could avoid it.  
  
Giles was an exception. The man knew what he was doing and wasn't a liability in combat. And while he took Buffy away from him for periods Riley knew that was for a good cause. It meant less time for him, true, but he could deal with that.  
  
He knew she didn't love him, that they were only marking time until she figured that out. He just wanted to do as much as possible to keep that day as far away as he could.  
  
Anyway, brooding wasn't going to help him any. That was a characteristic of Buffy's OTHER boyfriend.  
  
So now he was on the prowl for a cell phone. Damn that Giles hadn't kept the guy around who'd let them call Buffy earlier, or at least swiped his phone, but there was nothing to be done about that. Not many houses, but this distance outside Sunnydale there wasn't much but the occasional winery or small farm, and none of them nearby.  
  
The one good thing was that he'd tracked Joyce down. She'd fallen and hit her head when the shift occurred and was recuperating in a makeshift infirmary a few police officers and doctors had set up. He lied and told her Buffy and Dawn were alright.  
  
Along the way he'd also passed by several hundred other disgruntled Sunnydalers milling around outside the force field, but none who'd been holding a cellphone when the spell had taken effect. At least not yet. That still left several thousand to go, though if he needed to take it shanks' mare all the way around there wouldn't be a point in ringing in the Initiative.  
  
At least THEY were doing things right these days, handling things Mulder- and-Scully style, waiting for reports of demon activity rather than trying to co-opt the hostiles for fun and profit. They'd certainly be helpful in blocking anyone else from trying to get into Sunnydale.  
  
If he could only find a DAMN phone!  
  
He kept running.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Thanks for the help, Forrest," Buffy said, meaning it as the two of them walked down the streets of Sunnydale.  
  
"Don't mention it. To anyone. Anyway, when'd you buy it?" Forrest was as charming as ever, Buffy noticed, but the question --  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"You died, Summers," Forrest said. "Or you wouldn't be here now. No one who was alive when the night started is around. Which sucks, because I was hoping to catch up with Riley, assuming you haven't gotten him killed in the interim."  
  
"No," Buffy said, exasperated. "He's not dead, and neither am I. The demon that did this wanted me inside while hundreds of vampires chased me down." She wasn't going to yell at the guy for his attitude. He'd always had it and he was back for one night, and he had saved her life. By mutual agreement they moved off into the shadows, to stay out of sight of any other wandering nasties.  
  
An expression of sympathy briefly crossed his face. "That truly sucks."  
  
"It does. Her name's Glory – a tough one, cleaned my clock a few times and you don't need to look so happy about that –"  
  
Forrest laughed. "Damn, I'm sorry I missed that. Would've been nice to see you taken down a peg."  
  
Buffy stopped, and after a second Forrest stopped too. "Why didn't you like me, Forrest?"  
  
That wiped the smile from his face. "It was like I told you. You were taking Riley out of his game." No response from Buffy. "Did you think I was kidding?"  
  
"It always seemed . . . more personal to me."  
  
"It was NEVER personal," Forrest said. "I could've stood you if you hadn't been with Riley – as an independent agent, god knows you weren't military. But you took him to the brink." By now they were standing well back in the darkness.  
  
"In the end, it was US who took down Adam," Buffy said. "Us and Riley, while you –" she broke off, not wanting Forrest to know what Adam had changed him into.  
  
Thankfully, he didn't seem to have caught what Buffy was hiding. "Yeah, I know. I died. You don't have to rub it in. So you did nail the frankenstein bastard?"  
  
"Yeah. Ripped his power source from his chest."  
  
"Good job." And Buffy could tell that he meant it. After a few seconds of silence, it was obvious they'd reached a truce of sorts. "So," he continued. "Tell me about the situation."  
  
"Well," Buffy said, "Riley – and everyone else – was thrown out of town when it started, my guess is through a spell of Glory's. So I'm trapped in here with thousands of demons after me."  
  
"You're looking at it the wrong way," Forrest said.  
  
"Really?" Buffy said. "And how should I be looking at it?"  
  
Forrest grinned, almost evilly. "They're trapped in here with us."  
  
  
  
Part 7  
  
It was odd, having Forrest as a willing partner. But that beat having him as an enemy, and besides it was only for the night.  
  
It actually said a lot about the guy that with one night to relive he'd still spend it helping people. So far in the past half hour they'd stuck to the shadows, but they'd killed Theresa, a couple more of Harmony's "minions," and a random wandering demon Forrest said the Initiative had taken down sometime last August.  
  
Another reason Buffy wouldn't recognize all the demons or vamps she ran across – the Initiative had killed some itself, those it hadn't dragged in and experimented on. So Forrest was clueing her in.  
  
"I'm really trying to stay in the shadows," Buffy said. "I've got to survive here on my own until the sun comes up, and there are probably literally thousands of vampires out there."  
  
"I understand completely," Forrest said. "But you're not alone. I got your back, for one thing."  
  
"I know, and thanks."  
  
"I don't have to, though. I'm dead in nine hours either which way. So I can go out and kill the vamps. Buncha other guys banded together and had the same idea – there's a group of a hundred or so roaming the streets now, too big for any single vamp or demon to take down."  
  
"You never met the Mayor," Buffy said. "Hold on a second. Did you happen to pass by the high school at all?"  
  
"Yeah. Looked like a real battle royal going on in there – there were vamps and demons and a couple of humans running for their lives. I took down a couple of the vamps, including one dude in a cowboy hat screaming about some kind of monster –"  
  
"That would have been Tector Gorch. Nice going there." They crept a bit further; they were near a cemetery now, further away from Buffy's house –  
  
But then, she didn't want to go there anyway. The queller demon at least would be there, a couple of vamps died in the yard, and she didn't even want to think about Ted. She was probably better off keeping on the move, at least for now.  
  
"Tough dude?" Forrest brought her back to the conversation.  
  
"Tough, vicious, and nasty, but on a scale of dumbness he's about an eleven."  
  
"He WAS."  
  
"Point taken. He was. No offense meant."  
  
"None taken." Forrest grinned. "Pride in my work, that's all." They walked along the edge of the graveyard and stopped for a minute.  
  
"Completely understandable." The cemetery was one of the more well-lit. From the shadows by a waist-high stone wall Buffy could see a handful of humans wandering about, very nervously.  
  
Unfortunately, there was no safe haven for them either.  
  
And just then their fate became a lower priority than Buffy's as a vampire swiped at her from behind. Her "spider-sense" let her dodge the blow, and she and Forrest hopped the wall as one and faced their unseen opponent –  
  
Opponents. "Oh, shit." It was the Three.  
  
"You know these guys?"  
  
Buffy nodded. "Be ready for the fight of your life. And be ready to run if it gets too heavy."  
  
"Think I can't handle it?"  
  
Sighing, Buffy said. "First time I faced them I couldn't take them either." Forrest nodded his head in acknowledgement and stood in his best martial arts stance. It was a real stance, too, none of that tv-style posing.  
  
"Slayer," one of the Three hissed. "You cost us our lives, and our honor. Now we will cost you yours."  
  
And in so saying, they vaulted the wall and attacked.  
  
Two of them did, at any rate. The third was staked from behind by – well, by someone Buffy couldn't see.  
  
This took the other two by surprise but they recovered quickly. One leapt for Buffy, the other for Forrest. Forrest backpedalled and played it entirely defensively. A smart move, one Buffy couldn't afford to take.  
  
The Three may have been overwhelming four years ago, but she was a LOT better than she used to be. The dude was tough, but she'd taken on tougher.  
  
Still a hard fight, though. He connected several times with fists, feet, and once caught her with an elbow to the temple that knocked her down and made her head ring. With no wasted movement he came in, eager for the kill but no fool.  
  
So Buffy did something foolish, knowing he wouldn't expect it, and rolled TOWARDS him instead. When he jumped over she reached up and yanked him down by the legs. He fell on top of her awkwardly, but Buffy was ready for it. She grabbed his head as he landed and gave it a hard twist.  
  
She could hear the bones snap. Eventually they'd heal, if she gave it the chance. Which of course, she wouldn't. She shoved him off and staked him in one motion, then gave her attention to Forrest.  
  
Who was being assisted in his fight by their mysterious helper, Buffy guessed – they were out of sight on the other side of the vampire. As the final member of the three was distracted with his opponents, Buffy walked over and staked him through the back.  
  
Which left her looking into the eyes of the mystery guest.  
  
"Kendra!"  
  
* * * * *  
  
Heinrich Nest was not happy.  
  
He wasn't sad, either.  
  
What he was mostly at the moment was annoyed. His one night back and so far he'd spent two verdammte HOURS fighting with a giant snake-demon – oh, he knew the real name of the thing, he just didn't care – instead of going out and enjoying his night, perhaps getting revenge on the Slayer. But that would have made things too easy.  
  
So instead here he was in a pitched battle in the ruins of the very school below which the Hellmouth sat, where the two of them had both materialized. Heinrich had barely had time to duck out of the way of the monster's falling body. Then, infuriated, he'd lashed out and gashed it in the side. It spun and said, "Ouch," in a far milder voice than he would have expected. "Gosh, that hurt." Then the two of them had commenced battle, not incidentally essentially trashing what was left of the interior of the school.  
  
He made a mental side note to find whoever had done this and thank them – that is, if he survived. On one level, this was kind of invigorating. There were few vampires who could take on a full-fledged demon like this one and not be killed. Even so, the demon had by far the edge on strength, while Heinrich was a lot faster. If the demon struck a solid blow in the right place he would have been cleft in two, but so far he'd managed to avoid that fate.  
  
Not so half a dozen other assorted creatures and vampires he and the soft- voiced demon had run across in their struggle. A vampire in a cowboy hat by some stairs, an overweight man near the burned-out principal's office, and at least three other assorted beasts. Humans were in scarce supply, though Heinrich had spotted a short, bald ferret-faced one running for cover when they burst out of the school doors and onto the property.  
  
Heinrich had not had the opportunity to run at that point – not that he would have in any event. The demon had attacked him and he meant to see it dead before he moved on.  
  
However long that would take. He was patient.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Have a seat, Spike," Adam said. The battle still raged outside; the calmness of his words almost seemed funny by contrast.  
  
Spike's first thought, of course, was to look around for some way to get out of there, and do it quickly.  
  
Adam extended his arm and made sure Spike saw the high-powered gun embedded into it. "I said, have a seat." A gun that powerful could quite possibly rip his head off. Spike sat, though very reluctantly. "Relax, Spike," the artificial man told him. "I am not intent on any kind of revenge."  
  
"You'll forgive me if I don't take your word," Spike said sarcastically.  
  
Apparently oblivious to the sarcasm, Adam said, "Of course. I very nearly killed you the last time we spoke. To expect trust would be . . . foolish."  
  
"You're damn right." Then a brief period of silence; when Spike couldn't stand it any longer he said, as calmly as he could, "So, mate, did you just want me to sit down so you could stare at me a while?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Then WHAT THE BLEEDING HELL am I doing here?" Spike said, half-standing.  
  
"Stay calm, Spike. I sat you down so we could talk."  
  
"For two people to talk, there actually have to be – you know – words and things. If all you're after is an amiable silence you can have that without me. And in case you've forgotten I've got this little chip embedded in my head and I have plans for getting rid of it. So if you'll excuse me."  
  
"Sit down, Spike." Adam's voice, as always, had no inflection, but again as always that made it even more menacing. There were very few beings Spike actually feared, and Adam had been one of them. Spike sat. As though nothing had happened, Adam continued, "I've been thinking about life."  
  
"Really." Spike didn't even bother keeping the boredom out of his voice.  
  
"Yes. Its fragility, even for those such as you and I."  
  
"Hold on a minute," Spike said. "I am not fragile."  
  
"Not as such," Adam said. "Nor am I. But I was killed, and your survival is not your own doing – I am assuming the Slayer still lives?" Spike nodded. "She could kill you at any time. It is through her good graces you remain alive, not your own."  
  
"Supposing you're right," Spike said. "What's your point?"  
  
Adam said, "My point is simple. The thing we call life is completely without a point. I did not ask to live – as I am. And yet I did, and for one night only, do again. To what purpose?" Good lord. Profound thoughts to a third-grader.  
  
"You only now figured this out?" Spike asked in disbelief.  
  
"Before, I hadn't really the time to indulge in philosophy. Now – I do. At least for a few hours."  
  
"I'd think you'd be trying to figure out a way to survive this," Spike said.  
  
Adam replied, leaning forward. "To what end? I would die again even if I survived the night. All do, eventually." The bloke had gone completely fatalistic.  
  
Spike waved his hand. "I play my cards right, mate, I'll be around a long time."  
  
"Yes," Adam said, nodding his head slightly, "But a long time is not forever."  
  
"Again I have to ask," Spike said. "Is there an end to this discussion?"  
  
"No more than there is an end to life. I simply wished to philosophize for a time. And you are one of the few creatures around here capable of approaching my intellect."  
  
"Thanks," Spike said. "I think."  
  
"But if you wish to go –" Adam said, a trace of the martyr in his voice.  
  
"I do." He'd wanted to go since before the bloody conversation had started.  
  
"Then you may go."  
  
"Really? No tricks?"  
  
"Again, Spike, what would be the point?" He rose and Spike did likewise. "If you still wish to have the chip removed you may need some assistance." He called to someone behind him – someone who'd apparently been lurking in the darkness the whole time, or maybe they'd just shown up when Spike had been preoccupied. "Forrest –" he began.  
  
"Yes, Adam?" The former Initiative soldier said.  
  
"Escort Spike here past the fighting into where we have the doctors locked up. If he needs any help persuading the doctors, help him."  
  
"Yes, Adam."  
  
And they walked off. Spike couldn't believe it was going to be this easy.  
  
It wasn't, of course.  
  
  
  
Part 8  
  
  
  
"Buffy!" Kendra said excitedly, then calmed down. "It is . . . good to see you."  
  
Buffy showed no such restraint, and went and hugged the other Slayer. After a second, Kendra hugged her back. A grin on his face, Forrest waited until the two women had unclenched and extended his hand. A bit tentatively, Kendra took it. "Name's Forrest. Thanks for the help . . ."  
  
"Kendra," she said. "The vampire Slayer. And you were doing very well yourself – for someone without powers."  
  
Forrest gave Buffy a look. "She's a Slayer? The one before you?"  
  
"The story is long and complicated," Kendra said. "And not worth going into now when there are vampires to kill. Buffy. Did you die?"  
  
"No." Buffy was used to Kendra's bluntness – had been used to it, rather. "Still going strong after four years on the job."  
  
Kendra nodded. "I am not surprised." At that, despite the circumstances, Buffy grinned. "What is the situation?" Right then, back to business.  
  
"Everyone in town but Buffy here's been dead less than five years, but they've all been dead. Near as we can tell every living human being except her was tossed out a couple of hours back."  
  
"By what?"  
  
Buffy said, "I think some major power. Calls herself Glory; powerful enough to kick my ass without breaking a sweat AND do some kind of ritual at the same time. She's looking for something called the key. She's the only one I can think of who'd benefit from every human being out of town, because the key isn't human."  
  
"Understood." Kendra nodded. "So how do we kill her?"  
  
"We don't," Buffy said. "She's too strong right now and I have no idea how to hurt her."  
  
"You running from a battle?" Forrest asked. He seemed surprised, not like he was trying to start a fight.  
  
"No," Buffy said thoughtfully. "Just picking the right battlefield. And right now I know she's going to fail if she's looking for the key." She paused. "Right now, what I want to do is survive the night. And, I guess, help some of the rest of these people do that too."  
  
They looked around them. There were maybe a dozen or so people in the vicinity – and Buffy could tell they were just human beings. "Come on, folks," Buffy said. "We're not going to hurt you." Slowly they all moved forward. They all looked ragged, but they seemed unhurt. "Okay people, you're coming with us." Everyone walked out of the cemetery and down the street. No one attacked.  
  
"What's your idea?" Kendra asked.  
  
"The vampires – both the residents and the special-back-for-one-night-only kind – are going to be looking to do some damage, I'm betting. At least most of them, the ones without brains. And these people deserve their one night back just like you do."  
  
"Safety in numbers," Forrest said. "But what if the hostiles think the same way?"  
  
"That's why we're here, in case they do." She looked around. "Anyone else out there?" No one came. "Okay then, let's move on. Kendra, could you bring up the rear?"  
  
"This is a hell of a way to stay in the shadows," Forrest said. "Not that I think it's a bad idea – but aren't you supposed to try to lay low?" They came to a halt under the streetlight.  
  
Buffy sighed. "Yeah. But I don't think I could live with myself if I just let the vampires and demons have Sunnydale as an all-you-can-eat buffet, no matter how dangerous it is, and no matter that my friends – my LIVING friends," she amended, looking at Kendra, "are safe as possible trapped outside the city. But despite these lil' ol' Slayer skills I'm not Supergirl. Sure, I'm faster than a speeding skateboard, more powerful than a loco vampire and able to leap tall mausoleums in a single bound, but I'm not THAT good. That's why to keep these people safe we have to find them and keep them together. You two with me?"  
  
Kendra said, "Of course."  
  
Forrest nodded. "Me too. By myself I'd've just gone around killing hostiles anyway."  
  
"Good," Buffy said. "Keep an eye out for anyone else who might be able to help – or anyone we need to help."  
  
A voice behind them said, "Whatever it is, count me in." Buffy turned and saw Larry standing there, holding a shotgun and leading three other people.  
  
"You got it." Buffy didn't recognize any of Larry's group besides him. "I see you had the same idea I did."  
  
"Pretty much," he said. "Except I'm not superhuman and I can't do magic, so -- we've already lost two. A shotgun'll scramble a vampire up but it doesn't kill 'em."  
  
Damn. "Well, now you're with a group of people who ARE superhuman. So join the club."  
  
"How many shells you have for the shotgun?" Forrest asked.  
  
"A couple dozen."  
  
"What kind of shot are you?"  
  
"I can hit nine of ten clay pigeons."  
  
Forrest nodded. "You know how to use it, then. Good. Welcome to the group. Name's Forrest." He extended a hand. "Miss quiet over there's Kendra." Kendra said hello.  
  
"She's like me," Buffy said. "Don't ask for the story."  
  
"I wasn't going to."  
  
"So is there any plan?" Larry asked.  
  
"Walk around, find people, save them, kill vampires and demons."  
  
"Simple. I like it." They began walking again, and in the next fifteen minutes or so got another six people, including one former Initiative member.  
  
And then they got their first test as Buffy recognized one of the five vampires walking towards them as Kakistos.  
  
And one of the others as – hold it, this couldn't be right -- Dalton?  
  
* * * * *  
  
Glory walked when she had to.  
  
She preferred to be driven (the curse of looking good in four-inch heels).  
  
And though the roads were clogged with hundreds of automobiles and various other vehicles in sundry states of crash, she wanted to be driven.  
  
Which presented Dreg with a bit of a problem, as he was not the world's best driver, and Glory (the magnificent) not the easiest being in the universe to please (but pleasing her was his sole purpose in life)!  
  
So this made for a nervewracking ride.  
  
To top it off, neither Dreg nor Glory truly had any idea where they were going. The Key was out there – that the cobra servant had been slain RETURNING to Glory when it had been killed by the Slayer proved that – but obviously it was not in a form that was easy to recognize.  
  
Glory would know the Key at close range, but could not home in on it from a distance. So every once in a while her almighty puissant beauty would order the car stopped and would exit to see if she could detect it. There had been no luck in the hour or so they'd been searching, and Glory was getting angry.  
  
"Turn the car around, Dreg."  
  
"Yes, Glory." Dreg maneuvered the car around a crashed VW Beetle as smoothly as he could – which is to say he didn't crash into anything – and headed the other way down the street. "Turn here." Dreg turned, avoiding an overturned pickup truck, and drove down the road about a mile or so before her Gloriousness commanded, "Stop."  
  
And so they halted in front of a magic store. Dreg ran around and opened the car door, then sprinted to the front of the building and opened the shop's front door as well and held it as his life his light walked through.  
  
There was a vampire inside, sitting at the central table and looking through a book. He looked up as Glory and Dreg came in, then frowned. "You guys aren't vampires."  
  
"How perceptive," Glory said sarcastically. "Get out." Dreg moved forward to enforce Glory's wishes, but a held hand stopped him.  
  
"You're a power," the vampire said. "I ain't stupid enough to mess with you, but I got business in one of these books." He pointed to a stack next to the one he was reading. "I'm not going to get in your way."  
  
"What are you doing?" Her Glory asked.  
  
The vampire shut the book and sighed. "I'm trying to figure a way to last past the night. Noctus Animortus, I'm only back for a night and that's it. I'd like this unlife I've got to be a bit more permanent."  
  
Taking a few more steps in, Glory said, "You've got more brains than most, vampire. Most of your kind are out killing, slaughtering and maiming. It's nice to meet someone who has a vision, a goal, something concrete to work towards."  
  
"I've always been a bit of a long-term planner," the vampire said, chuckling.  
  
Then her magnificence did something Dreg had never seen before. She strode forward and extended her hand. "I'm Glory."  
  
Standing up, the vampire introduced himself, then bent low and brushed his lips over the top of Glory's hand. Dreg started to charge forward to punish the vampire for his impertinence, but Glory again held out a hand.  
  
"No, Dreg. He has a goal, he has a plan, and he's working towards it. I respect that, and I wish I saw it more in myself. You can keep studying. I don't think you'll succeed, but I admire your attitude." Then she turned to Dreg. "Dreg, go search that cabinet over there for some lodestone." She pointed to the far corner of the shop, then turned and began rooting through the magic powders. The vampire gave a slight bow and returned to his studies.  
  
A few minutes later, Dreg came to the front of the store with three different lodestones. The awesome one was already waiting for him with a bag of powder in her hand. "I, I have three sizes here, oh most mighty Glory," he said nervously as he knelt to present them. Dreg saw the vampire flash him a look of great amusement.  
  
"The larger, the better," Glory said, slapping the smaller two from his outstretched palms. Then oh power of powers said, "Is this one the largest one they had?"  
  
"Only these three were there, beloved Glory. This was the largest."  
  
"Well then, it'll have to do." She turned to leave.  
  
As Dreg ran for the door, the vampire called after them, "Good luck in whatever you're doing."  
  
"I don't need luck," she said. "I need the Key." The vampire's eyebrows raised, but he said nothing and returned to leafing through the books of magic.  
  
When they got outside, Glory told Dreg (after he had opened the door of the car for the wondrous one) to find the most wide-open space he could. It took about twenty minutes of driving, but soon they were in a fairly open field, nothing but trees, grass and rocks around for several hundred feet in any direction.  
  
"Now stand back," she said as she pulled out the bag of powder with one hand and held the lodestone with the other. "The iron in your blood might contaminate the ritual."  
  
"Oh mighty one," Dreg said. "If I knew –"  
  
"I'm making a compass," Glory said, clearly annoyed. "This isn't as effective as the cobra ritual but it should get the job done." She sprinkled the powder over the lodestone and mumbled a few words. Both stone and powder disappeared, to be replaced by a faintly glowing arrow in the air a few feet in front of his mistress' head. It was pointing to the opposite side of Sunnydale. "And somewhere in THAT direction, Dreg," Glory said. "We'll find the Key."  
  
  
  
Part 9  
  
Riley Finn stood on Route 171 a mile or so away from the barrier surrounding Sunnydale, facing a few of his old pals in the Initiative.  
  
"This isn't up our normal alley these days," Graham said. "We're more hunter-killer op than a security blanket. But apart from the guys you and Buffy work with we've rounded up everyone else and taken them to hotels or hospitals so no there's no more collateral damage."  
  
"Thanks," Riley said. "But I figured you guys would at least be able to help us stop any more cars from crashing through that barrier ahead. Speaking of which –"  
  
"We've got people analyzing it now," Graham told him. "We don't know what it is yet besides magic, but if anyone can figure it out the Army can."  
  
Riley asked, "What are you telling the civilians?"  
  
"That there's a freak electrical storm surrounding the town," Graham said.  
  
"I've heard worse," Riley admitted. "I'd advise you not to bring down the barrier unless you have a shitload of soldiers out there."  
  
"Right, this Noctus Animortus thing," Graham said. "Don't worry. We're good but I don't think we're ready for a full-blown Night of the Living Dead scenario. We do have teams roaming the perimeter though, ready to blow holes in anything nonhuman they see."  
  
"That's both a relief and a good idea."  
  
"Thanks." Graham's face grew somber then. "But I have to say, man, as a friend, if even half of what you're saying is true, I wouldn't count on getting Buffy out of there."  
  
"She'll make it." Riley's voice was firm.  
  
Graham said, "I hope so. But – it's just that even Superman would have a hard time making it out in one piece. Just don't want you to get your hopes up."  
  
"My hopes are fine where they are," Riley snapped. "Is there anything else you need right now?"  
  
"Not unless there's something you haven't told us," Graham said. "But look. Why don't you stick around, give us a hand? We'd still love to have you back, you know."  
  
"I've told you already, no."  
  
Graham smiled. "Well, if you change your mind we'll know where to find you." They shook hands and Graham walked over to an SUV to bark orders into a radio.  
  
Riley took off back to where he'd left the others. They should know what was going on.  
  
Some of it, anyway.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Spike and this Frankenstein bastard named Forrest were able to evade the pitched battles outside with surprising ease, slipping their way into the back laboratory area of the Initiative without having to do so much as dodge a single bullet.  
  
Huddled back there – along with two other Dr. cyborgs – were two fully human scientists, as nervous as you'd expect anyone in their position to be. Not that Spike really gave a crap, as long as they weren't nervous enough to give him a lobotomy as they took out his chip.  
  
The two other cyborgs came forward when Spike entered. Forrest held up a hand and said, "No. Adam has said we are to help him." The cyborgs moved back up against the wall and stood there. For a second Spike wondered about how bloody boring that had to be. Then he realized that the ability to be bored had probably been snipped out of them along with their personalities and their capacity for independent thought.  
  
What was he thinking? These idiots had been in the army. Their personalities and independent thought had been snipped out long before Adam ever got hold of them.  
  
Spike looked up; Forrest was standing there, the two other hybrids were flush against the wall and the humans were still quivering in fear. Right then. Time to give them something to quiver about. "My name's Spike," he said. "That's right. Bloody Hostile 13 back to ruin your day. You blokes put this chip in my head and I want it out. As in now."  
  
The closer of the two said, "But, but, I'm not a surgeon, I'm an engineer, I don't know . . ."  
  
Spike turned to look at Forrest. "Is he telling the truth?" Forrest nodded. "What about you?" the vampire demanded of the other one.  
  
In a display of macho, the other one suddenly stood tall and said, "I'm a surgeon alright. But I'm not taking the chip out of your head."  
  
"Oh, really?" Spike said menacingly.  
  
"Really," the man said. "I'm only due to live another seven and a half hours or so anyway. There's nothing you can do to force me."  
  
"Oh really?" Spike repeated.  
  
"You a broken record or something?" the man said. My, did this one have stones. Maybe Spike could have them ripped off with a pair of pliers. "I've got seven plus hours to live and I'm not going to waste them helping a murdering demon get the chance to murder again."  
  
To hell with a pair of pliers; Spike was going to have this joe's balls cut off with a rusty saw if he had his way. "Forrest, persuade the good surgeon here to remove the chip from my head."  
  
Forrest stiffened. "I don't believe I argue very well."  
  
"Right, I forgot, you were in the army. Rough him up a little. Make sure his friend doesn't interfere."  
  
Gesturing to the other two cyborgs, Forrest grabbed the surgeon around the wrist and threw him into the wall. The other doctor was held in place by the iron grips of Forrest's companions, not that the lad seemed inclined to make trouble but it was definitely best not to take chances here. Then Spike looked back at Forrest and nearly had heart failure. He'd grabbed the surgeon's fingers and was beginning to squeeze very hard. "NOT THE HANDS, YOU BLOODY IDIOT!" Spike screamed as he ripped the man from Forrest's grasp. He spun the man in place and looked at the fingers.  
  
The left hand was quite broken, and the surgeon smiled broadly. "I TOLD you I'd never perform any operation on you, you bloodsucking bastard." In response, knowing the headache it would cause, Spike walked up to the man and broke his other hand.  
  
When Spike finally straightened up again, the surgeon yelled, "What the hell did you do THAT for?"  
  
"Kicks," Spike said. Then he looked at the engineer. "You, what's your name?"  
  
"Scott. Maxwell Scott." Lovely. As if the rest of his life wasn't enough of a damned in-joke the gods of perversity had handed him an engineer named Scott.  
  
"Scott. Great. You do any detail work or are you an idea man?"  
  
Scott straightened like he'd just been gravely insulted. "Physicists are the idea men. Engineers do the work."  
  
"What KIND of work?" Spike asked irritably. "Do you build bridges or do you repair TV remotes?"  
  
"Closer to the second," Scott said. "I do – I did – some of Adam's circuitry."  
  
"So you've got good hands, then?" The surgeon caught on to what Spike was leading up to, but before he could get a word in edgewise Spike told Forrest to keep the bastard quiet, preferably without breaking his neck.  
  
"Yeah – oh, no. No, no." Apparently Scott had caught on a half second after his surgeon friend.  
  
"Oh yes," Spike said. "I came here to get this chip out of my head, I don't trust either Dr. zombie over there, and the good surgeon has two broken hands. So you have a choice, mate. You can either do the surgery as directed by your pal, or Forrest and his chums can spend the next seven hours making you wish you'd never heard of Noctus-fucking-Animortus. So. What's your choice?"  
  
They chose wisely.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The group began to panic. Buffy called out quickly, "Anyone not up for fighting, get behind the rest of us and yell out if anyone breaks through." That left her, Larry, Kendra, Forrest and his pal from the Initiative, who Buffy had learned was named Erik, up front, and the other twenty people or so behind them. "Leave the big one to me and Kendra," she said. "And leave the one with glasses alive if you can. He'll be good for information." As with most of Buffy's battles that night, this one was taking place in the middle of the street in a residential neighborhood. Not her usual anti-vamp battleground.  
  
"Slayer," Kakistos rasped. "You aren't the one I want to kill. But you'll do."  
  
"Aw, you make a girl feel all SPECIAL," Buffy said. Then, in an aside to Kendra, she said, "2000 years old. Very tough. Faith had to ram a two by four through his heart to kill him."  
  
"Thanks for the warning," Kendra said.  
  
"That's why you and I are taking him on. He's tougher than the other four put together."  
  
"Yes," Kendra said.  
  
And then the five vampires charged. No, four of them charged; Dalton was more or less shoved into attacking by Kakistos. Dalton was much a coward as a vampire could be; he'd even fed from blood banks unless he hadn't had a choice. What he was doing hanging around Kakistos Buffy had no clue.  
  
From the way he "attacked," Dalton had no clue either. He charged blindly into the pack and straight on through. Buffy tripped him as he tried to exit and tossed him into a utility pole. After that Kakistos came straight at them and Buffy didn't pay attention to Dalton for a while.  
  
The vampire was just as strong as Buffy'd remembered; not very agile, but he'd never needed to be. If he'd had brains to match his brawn he'd have been unbeatable; as it was he'd lived two millennia on strength and force of will alone. He was stronger then she and Kendra put together, and had a quick reaction time given his size, but wasn't especially fast on his feet. As Kendra dodged his first blows, Buffy ducked and kicked him in the knee as hard as she could. Ouch, yes, felt like kicking a block of granite.  
  
A bit away they heard one gunshot, and one of the other vampires went flying backwards. Larry pounced on it with a stake through the heart. Good job. She couldn't see Erik or Forrest.  
  
Kakistos grabbed Buffy by both shoulders as she tried to back away, squeezed as hard as he could, and threw her down the street. She landed hard on the asphalt and as she got up she felt a sharp pain in her left shoulder. Whenever she moved it it hurt like hell.  
  
Forrest and Erik were taking on one vampire apiece; Larry'd reloaded his rifle and was trying to get a clear shot. Buffy ran over to Dalton, shoved his head against the lamppost again, and walked up to Larry. "Move around to where they're not in your way," she said, pointing at the two Initiative soldiers. "And when I give the signal, fire as many times as you can at the big one."  
  
"Got it," Larry said.  
  
Kendra had more moves than Muhammad Ali; Kakistos wasn't laying a glove on her. On the other hand, whatever blows Kendra landed weren't really bothering the ancient vampire. This way of fighting the SOB wasn't going to work. Oh, Kakistos could be hurt; just look at the scar Faith had left him as a parting gift. But it had been luck that had gotten him killed the first time as much as anything else.  
  
Larry was in position. Good. Buffy waited for the two combatants to break clear of each other for a second; then, gritting her teeth, she charged forward and tackled Kendra as hard as she could, yelling "Now!" as the two of them fell onto the edge of someone's lawn.  
  
Two rifle shots followed, both clearly striking Kakistos somewhere in the chest. He turned to face this new foe; as one, Buffy and Kendra charged towards him and slammed into him as hard as they could. Larry, reloading furiously, jumped back as Kakistos fell to the street. "Aim for the heart!" Larry ran up and hurriedly pumped two more rounds into the vampire's back at point-blank range. Buffy handed Kendra a stake and said, "Go! I'll keep him down!" Then she fell across Kakistos' legs as he tried to stand, knocking him once more to the pavement.  
  
Kendra got the idea and shoved the stake into the gaping hole in the vampire's back. It took about ten seconds, because the vampire squirmed around like a fish on a riverbank, but eventually the stake was deep enough and penetrated the heart, and Kakistos was dust. And Buffy's shoulder hurt like someone had dropped a house on it.  
  
The other two vampires tried to run. Forrest leapt on one and broke its neck; Kendra took the other one and staked it in a matter of seconds. Dalton still wasn't moving. "Kendra," Buffy said. "Would you make sure Dalton doesn't go anywhere?" Kendra walked over and stood over the scholar- vamp. "Forrest, could you check on everyone?" Forrest nodded. Buffy stood up and let out a small moan of pain.  
  
Erik noticed Buffy wincing and said, "What's wrong?"  
  
"My shoulder," Buffy said.  
  
"Let me take a look at it." Buffy shot him a quizzical look. "I'm a trained paramedic AND a second-year medical student," Erik explained. "I might be able to help. Let me see. When this hurts, let me know." He gently rotated Buffy's shoulder around; after about a second Buffy yelped. "Yeah, it's dislocated. We'd better get you to the hospital, or a doctor's office."  
  
Kendra said, "The hospital would be a very bad idea. Vampires are probably raiding the blood banks there even as we speak."  
  
"Okay," Buffy said. "My doctor's office is a couple of blocks away. Let's get going."  
  
"Keep it immobile, if you can," Erik said. "When we get there I'll try to pop it back into place."  
  
Forrest walked up. "Everyone's okay." Then he pointed at the Kendra-guarded figure of Dalton. "What do we do with him?"  
  
"Wake him up," Buffy said. Kendra slapped him a few times and he bolted upright, but seeing the people around him he wasn't going anywhere. Buffy leaned over and said, "Hello, Dalton. What were you doing hanging around Kakistos?"  
  
"It wasn't my idea," he said. "I was out trying to find something for a spell when I ran into him. He basically dragged me along, told me he'd, he'd kill me if I didn't come. I was looking for an opportunity to get away –"  
  
"He must have scared you if you thought your chances were better with me," Buffy said.  
  
"One percent beats zero every time," Dalton said.  
  
"What was the spell?" Larry asked. Buffy grinned at the good catch and posed the question again to Dalton.  
  
"Um, I'd really rather not say . . ."  
  
"Say. Or die." This from Kendra.  
  
"A couple of us are trying to figure out a way to, um, live out past the end of the night. I'm looking for spell components; there's this other guy trying to do the research. He's at a magic shop now . . . DON'T KILL ME!" He cowered at Buffy's look of anger. Then she hauled him to his feet, ignoring the pain radiating from her shoulder. "What's the vampire's name?"  
  
"Oh, that. Trick."  
  
  
  
Part 10  
  
  
  
They had been battling now for Heinrich knew not how long, and quite honestly they were both looking tired. The snake-demon was bleeding from dozens of cuts, while Heinrich was sore unto death from the few times the demon had connected. Fortunately the demon had not once managed to BITE Heinrich, but the tailswipes still hurt.  
  
Right now they were battling in what looked like it had been the primary cafeteria for the high school. There were still ruined tables and chairs in the room – why they hadn't been removed long since Heinrich had no idea, but they were again slowing the demon, so Heinrich was grateful.  
  
For some reason the burned chairs and tables seemed to annoy the snake, however, and after another couple of minutes of half-hearted fighting the same mild voice he'd heard before said, "Oh, enough," and stopped moving. Then his head swung around and looked at the room and said, "Well, good gosh, they've had almost a year and a half to clean this up."  
  
Such wording was nowhere near what Heinrich had been expecting. Preparing himself in the event this was some bizarre attempt at distracting him, he said, "What do you mean, demon? And why did you attack me?"  
  
The demon's eyes widened a bit. "Well, this damage is from when they killed me. I lived just long enough to see the school in ruins. Who the heck is running this city anyway?" Then he fixed his gaze upon Heinrich. "And I didn't attack you. You attacked me. Not ten seconds after I came back to life, you started biting my backside." The demon didn't seem hostile, but he certainly didn't appear averse to a resumption of hostilities.  
  
But Heinrich preferred the status quo. "You are mistaken," he said. "I materialized in the library and shortly afterwards you rolled on top of me. I was merely defending myself."  
  
The demon emitted what seemed to be a laugh. Whether amused or bitter Heinrich knew not, nor did he care. "Well, then, Mr. Master, it seems we've been fighting for the last four hours for no good reason at all. Oh, don't you look surprised, I know exactly who you are and what your plans were for my city. Let's just say I'm quite grateful that we never had to clash before I Ascended, because I have no idea who would have been victorious."  
  
Curious despite himself, Heinrich said, "And who WERE you before you Ascended?" He attempted to make it seem offhand, but did not entirely succeed. Anyone capable of Ascension was a Power worth reckoning with – even if he had died from explosion.  
  
"I was the Mayor of Sunnydale." The tail was flicking furiously, slamming into a few walls and crushing what remained of the furniture.  
  
In some way, Heinrich knew the answer but he posed the question anyway. "Who killed you?"  
  
The tail stopped. "Why, the same person who killed you, Master. Buffy Summers."  
  
"The Slayer," Heinrich hissed.  
  
"One and the same. And you know what? She killed you, she killed me, and she forced Spike and Drusilla out of town. I'll make a bet with you that she's still alive."  
  
"Slayers," Heinrich said scornfully, "Rarely last more than two years. Certainly she can't have survived this long."  
  
"There's only one way to find out," the former Mayor said. "Would you care to join me in a tour of the town?"  
  
Heinrich could see many advantages to teaming with so powerful an ally. "It would give me . . . great pleasure."  
  
"I'd shake hands but, gosh, I don't seem to have any."  
  
"No matter," Heinrich said. "Lead on. And please, try not to go too swiftly. I'm fast but I fear I can't match your speed."  
  
The demon's large head broke into what Heinrich assumed was a grin. "Very well." Then he slithered back out through the cafeteria doors and down the halls of the ruined school.  
  
Heinrich followed him.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Okay, guys," Buffy said. "We have two things we have to do. Any of you ever heard of Mr. Trick?"  
  
Kendra had. Of COURSE Kendra had. "He was an aide to Kakistos, and he was said to prefer to stay out of the limelight."  
  
Buffy nodded. "That's right. Smart guy, not big on direct confrontation, likes to hang out behind the scenes. If anyone can figure out how to live out past Noctus Animortus it's him."  
  
"So why should we stop him?" Forrest asked. "I don't know about the rest of you –" he pointed to Larry, Kendra and Erik, "But that sounds like a good idea. I don't like being dead."  
  
Kendra said, "No. My job is done."  
  
Larry said, "What my folks must have gone through – no. They think I'm dead, and I am. I wouldn't want to do that to them – and I don't want to try living life on the road either. No. If this had happened within a day or two – but they've gotten on with it."  
  
"And you?" Forrest asked Erik.  
  
"Same deal, man," Erik said. "Not going to do that to my mom and dad."  
  
"And besides," Buffy said. "What makes you think Trick's interested in keeping PEOPLE alive? He's a vampire. He'll be out for himself and maybe any vampire or demon who gives him a hand."  
  
"Yeah," Forrest sighed. "I guess you're right." He didn't look happy. "I reserve the right to take seriously any way of keeping MYSELF alive, though."  
  
"Um," Buffy said. "You already did – though it wasn't your choice."  
  
He frowned. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"After Adam killed you in that cave – he took your body and made you into one of his servants. Unlike most of the rest, you still had a brain. You kept saying how much you enjoyed your new status, how much you were looking forward to killing Riley and me."  
  
"You are shitting me." Forrest's tone matched his words.  
  
"Look at me, Forrest. Do I look like I'm shitting you in any way, shape or form?"  
  
"No. No you don't." He paused. "Well, if that's my option, I would MUCH rather stay dead. Tell me this, though. What happened to this perverted vision of me? Tell me someone killed it."  
  
Buffy nodded her head. "Riley did, in the final fight against Adam. I killed Adam."  
  
"Good. To both." He sighed. "I'm still keeping an eye out for any other method, though."  
  
"We won't stop you," Buffy said.  
  
The group had been edging closer during the conversation. Buffy had assumed they were just doing it for protection's sake, but one of them – an older man in a gray suit – said, "Did we just hear you people talking about surviving the night?"  
  
"Well –" Buffy said.  
  
The man nodded his head. "You were. I knew it." He called back to the rest of the crowd. "They know a way of living through this and they're keeping it to themselves." The crowd started muttering. If this wasn't defused it could turn ugly. The last thing Buffy wanted was a group of people angry because they thought they were being jobbed out of a second chance at life.  
  
Unfortunately, it looked like that's exactly what they were getting. "People!" she said, and the group quieted down a bit. "We DON'T know of any way for any of you to live past dawn."  
  
"Then why were you talking about it?" The crowd echoed a yeah.  
  
"Because," Forrest said irritably, "We just got word that some vampire somewhere in town's trying to puzzle out a way. But he's working on it for vampires, not humans. He doesn't give a crap about any of you living out the night."  
  
Larry added, "Don't you have families? People you cared about? How do you think they'll feel if you suddenly come back one, two, maybe five years later?"  
  
"I don't care," the man said. "I just want to live again."  
  
"Well, there's no way to do it," Buffy said.  
  
"That vampire thinks there is," the man said, then turned to the crowd behind him. "You all with me?" Another echoed yeah.  
  
"Well," Buffy said, "You'll be doing it without my protection."  
  
"Or mine," Kendra said. Erik and Larry agreed.  
  
Conspicuous by his refusal to agree was Forrest. He walked up to Buffy and said, under his breath, "Someone has to look out for them, you know."  
  
"I know," Buffy said. "I'm hoping they'll go along with us this way. If they know they're on their own."  
  
"That's cold," Forrest said.  
  
"I know. It's just the only way I can think of that might work."  
  
"And if they decide otherwise?"  
  
Buffy sighed. "I don't know. I don't want them to get hurt, but – watch it!" The man had snuck up behind Larry. Larry spun around and the man jumped on him, trying to wrestle the shotgun away. Voices from the crowd shouted both, "Jerry, you idiot!" and "Get it! Get it!" so the crowd wasn't as one-voiced as Buffy had feared.  
  
That was the good news.  
  
The bad news –  
  
The shotgun went off.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Xander stood by the edge of the barricade under a streetlight. Willow sat on the ground next to him on one side, Cordelia on the other. Cordelia was talking about the LA gang's recent encounters with Darla while Willow and Xander listened in polite amazement.  
  
Riley'd been back for an hour or so, and he'd explained that he'd contacted a few of his old friends who'd been in the Initiative and had them throw their weight around and get a few roadblocks set up. More importantly, he'd mentioned seeing Joyce, alive, well, and reasonably healthy. Willow had finally regained consciousness a half hour back, right after Tara had but neither of them felt in any way up to magic. So, basically, with nothing to do between now and dawn besides keep an eye out for any straying vampires and making sure they survived the night, people were talking. Anya, Wesley and Giles were having a deadly earnest discussion about the magic involved in the spell, and how they might counter it in the future if it ever popped up. Riley was mostly pacing by himself, occasionally checking in to make sure everyone was okay and no chaos demons had hurled themselves against the shield, slobbering death as they came; and Tara and Dawn were asleep in Cordy's car.  
  
"So, as it turns out," Cordelia said, "She wasn't brought back as a vampire. She came back human."  
  
"That's, that's not possible," Willow said.  
  
Cordelia said, "Tell that to Wolfram & Hart."  
  
"I'm getting the feeling I'm very glad those people don't have a branch office in Sunnydale," Xander said.  
  
Willow nodded, "Or one of those cheesy television commercials." She paused and said in a deep bass, "Hello. I'm Lionel Wolfram. If you're in trouble with the law for sacrificing virgins, casting a mass spell of death, or you're simply a vampire who's sucked blood from the wrong neck, why not give us a call? We can help."  
  
Cordelia and Xander both burst out laughing. Xander continued, "Hello. I'm Mortimer Hart. Stabbings? Stakings? Accidental beheadings? Miscast rituals? Love potions gone awry? We can help."  
  
Cordelia added, "Call 1-800-DEMONLAW. That number again, 1-800-DEMONLAW. Call now! Our operators are standing Jesse."  
  
"Okay," Xander said a little uncomfortably. "Not exactly sure where you're going with that last word . . ."  
  
Willow tugged on Xander's shirt and pointed inside the shield. "No, Xander. Jesse." Xander looked at where Willow was pointing –  
  
And damn. She was right. Jesse was walking towards the shield. Everyone stood up.  
  
They hadn't thought or talked about Jesse all that much. It was, still, after all this time, easier to pretend that he'd never existed than it was to admit what had happened to him.  
  
But of course, he'd come back under Noctus Animortus. Everyone would have.  
  
He realized distractedly as Jesse approached that that meant Jenny Calendar was in there somewhere, and hoped Giles hadn't thought of it. Not that Ms. Calendar had necessarily been the love of Giles' life, but –  
  
"Hey, man," Jesse said as he got to the barrier.  
  
"Hey."  
  
"Willow. Cordelia, as beautiful as ever." Jesse sounded almost suave, but the smile on his face was kind of wistful.  
  
"Thank you," Cordelia said.  
  
"No sarcastic comment?" Jesse said.  
  
"Fresh out," was Cordelia's response.  
  
Jesse chuckled. "There's the old Cordelia fire." He faced Xander directly. "How's it been going?"  
  
"It's been going," Xander said. "The sun rises, the sun sets, we kill the bad guys, we move on."  
  
"Kill the bad guys?" Jesse asked. "Right, like that dude who killed me."  
  
Xander hadn't expected him to be quite so open about it. "Yeah. Like him. We got him over three years ago."  
  
"Did you now?" Jesse sounded a bit surprised. "I'm not quite sure I believe you there, man."  
  
"Why – why not?" Willow asked.  
  
"You're still alive." Willow paled at this, and Cordelia took a step backwards.  
  
Xander said softly, "Jesse – oh, no."  
  
And Jesse's game face came on. "Yes." Then, angrily: "Damn it, Xander! How could you kill me like that?"  
  
"It was an accident –" Xander began. Next to him, Cordelia kicked a piece of wood at Willow's feet.  
  
Jesse sneered. "Right. An accident. I offer you eternal life and you shove a stake through my heart. I know what it is. Buffy corrupted you." He pointed to Willow. "Both of you. We did everything together. We were another Three Musketeers."  
  
"Knock it off," Cordelia said. "Willow, Xander, remember – that's not Jesse." Willow wasn't saying anything; she looked like someone in the last mile of a triathlon, determined but five seconds away from collapsing.  
  
"Wrong again, Cordy," Jesse said. "I've got the memories, I've got the personality, and apart from all of that nice-guy shit holding me back I'm exactly the same. You're still as clueless as you always were, though."  
  
"Wrong again, Jesse," Cordelia said sadly. "You're the one who hasn't changed."  
  
"I never got the CHANCE!" Jesse said. "Damn it, it wasn't fair." He paused and said quietly, "It wasn't fair. I should have been there too."  
  
"I know," Xander said. "And I'm sorry about that. You'll never believe how much."  
  
"You're right –" Jesse began.  
  
"Because you'll never have the time." And the piece of wood that Willow had been controlling sailed forward and staked Jesse through the heart.  
  
Cordelia caught Willow to keep her from falling, then looked at Xander. "Are you going to be okay?"  
  
"Eventually," Xander said. "Eventually."  
  
  
  
Part 11  
  
Jenny Calendar had been running for hours, from one vampire and then another. The only reason she was still alive was that there were so many other people out there as easier targets.  
  
She'd been lucky to escape the cemetery she'd been buried in – goddess, over two and a half years ago. Since then she'd been looking around for someone, anyone, coherent enough to act as an ally, or a friend. No luck so far. The only person she'd even recognized was one of the former high school students, and he'd been too scared to be of any help. That meant hitting the net.  
  
First Jenny tried the high school. What had happened? Something big, obviously, but what? She decided against investigating when she heard a struggle inside the building that sounded like the Hulk and Superman were going at it.  
  
So there wouldn't be any help at the library, or anywhere inside the school.  
  
Damn. What next? She needed to find someone, somewhere, with a computer, and she couldn't just go randomly breaking down doors, not that she had the strength in any event. Willow's house seemed like the best bet – she'd be in college now, assuming she'd survived (and Jenny had to make the assumption), but there was no place better to start.  
  
She didn't even need to hotwire a car, with all the stopped and crashed ones outside. Why there were so many, she didn't know and wasn't sure she wanted to. Sunnydale didn't seem to have been abandoned to the vampires, but there were precious few signs of anyone who hadn't been recently reincarnated. At least, no one human. At random, she chose an Olds with a recent if involuntary front end alignment that still seemed reasonably intact and hopped in.  
  
Looking at the clock tower as she passed, Jenny noticed it was sometime around 11:00. Crom and Mitra, less than four hours? It had seemed longer than that. She sped through the streets of Sunnydale and made to Willow's house in about ten minutes. The lights were on, but there was nobody home. Hmm. Never thought she'd use that phrase literally. The front door was locked, but the back wasn't. She roamed the house until she found a computer. Pentium 166, but it looked a few years old. Probably Willow's sloppy seconds, but it still worked and still had Netscape. (MUCH better than Explorer, and there was no reason for that to have changed in the last 30 months. Microsoft, ptui.)  
  
She scanned through all the technopagan chat rooms and explained her situation, leaving out the part that she was one of the "living dead." After she waded through the age sex check assholes, the sleazeballs, and those who were either lunatics or thought she was, she had a handful of good suggestions.  
  
They boiled down to: Hide, jump in the car and take off, cast a spell to destroy the vampires, try to find to way to help the humans survive the night, or find a way to speed Noctus Animortus. Hmmm. The first two were out. Jenny Calendar was no one's fool but she didn't run from her problems. The third was, to put it mildly, unrealistic. That left finding a way to live through it, or finding a way to speed it along.  
  
The first option had its charms. She signed off the chat room and went to one of the RELIABLE online Tarot readers – most of them were frauds who wouldn't know the Heirophant from heiroglyphics. She thought about her question, posed it as generally as she could and waited for the reading.  
  
Damn. As clearly as the cards ever were about anything, she was being told that helping people live out the night was a bad idea. There wasn't a reason why given, but – while the cards impelled and not compelled – she wasn't about to buck them on this one.  
  
Since it was her policy to only use the tarot once a night she went instead to a site that cast the bones online and checked on the second option. The response she got there was that that would be a mixed blessing – it would help some people but not everyone.  
  
Well, so be it. That sure beat out the other reading. Jenny spent the next half hour or so scouring the net for the best way to speed it along. She wasn't up for a time-related spell, so her only alternative was suspended animation. Sometime not long before midnight, she found one she could do.  
  
Jenny Calendar was no witch, nor was she a sorcerer, but she was capable of this. The difficulty was going to be expanding it to fill the affected region. A quick search brought her up short. The area was on the high side of a 15-mile diameter circle.  
  
Well. This was going to be a harder road to hoe than she'd thought. Still, as long as she had the right materials –  
  
Jenny grabbed the spell's printout, scrupulously turned off the computer, and peered out the front door, on the chance some ghoulie or goblin or long- legged beastie had decided to set up shop right outside. Luck was with her, so she ran outside, got into the car, and sped to the magic shop.  
  
Which was under new management. A group of vampires was studying spellbooks around a table in the center, and despite the relative politesse of their discussion she didn't feel like providing them with a coffee break.  
  
So where, then?  
  
Rupert's apartment, again assuming he was still alive and still lived there. Failing that, she'd have to go scour the town, and after her adventures earlier in the evening she wouldn't bet hard money on her long- term survival.  
  
So she prayed to every deity she could think of, and several she'd only read about, and drove over to the apartment.  
  
The front door was unlocked. One prayer answered.  
  
It took her another fifteen minutes – Rupert wasn't a sorcerer, but he had a lot of magical equipment lying around, even if it was in different locations from where she remembered. She dashed off a quick note, tore it up, and wrote a longer one.  
  
Then she headed to the center of the effect, which meant that unfortunately she had to go back to the high school and get as close to the Hellmouth as she could. The sounds of battle had died away by the time she got back, though she had no clue whether that was good or bad. She again scouted the area, seeing nothing threatening, grabbed the spell components and headed into the ruins of the school.  
  
As she went inside she wished she'd brought her flashlight. The glow of the streetlights and the reflected light of the moon and the stars didn't give enough light for her to do more than see her hand in front of her face. She lit one of the candles she'd brought, cupped it, and walked hastily towards an absolute shell of a library. She almost fell into the gaping hole in the middle of the floor; as it was, she could barely see the bottom. She tried to remember where the Hellmouth beast had burst through the floor, and to her horror it was down in the hole somewhere.  
  
Infiltration wasn't her gig on the brightest of days, much less in pitch dark, but if not her, then who? She tossed the bag down and did her best not to kill herself clambering down the sides of the hole. Then, retrieving her back, she went as close as she could remember to the center, set down her candle, and put the remaining five around her, evenly spaced. Then she blessed the circle.  
  
She got out the scroll and read over it. This should freeze the entire town in its tracks; the drawback was that it needed to be renewed every thirty minutes.  
  
Hoping the candles were long-burning, she began to chant at just past midnight.  
  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
FREEZE FRAME:  
  
The Master, riding the Mayor, in the middle of downtown Sunnydale, vampires, humans and lesser demons fleeing in their wake.  
  
The Mayor, just powerful enough in essence to understand what's going on, continues to strain his muscles and manages to slither forward a few inches every minute, running over two people in the time the spell is in effect.  
  
The Master, unfortunately, is not nearly so powerful, and eventually falls completely off the Mayor and lands on the street.  
  
FREEZE FRAME:  
  
Mr. Trick, sitting in the middle of the magic shop, still studying a book intently, with a pure quartz crystal next to him and an unlit red candle. He thinks he's figured out how to work staying alive, but he needs Dalton to come back to be sure.  
  
He's barely aware something's happening, but he has no clue what.  
  
FREEZE FRAME:  
  
Spike, about to lie on an operating table, with the broken-handed surgeon and Engineer Scott standing reluctantly by. Forrest and the two other cyborgs guarding the door. An assortment of surgical tools lies on a nearby table. None of them have any clue that hours are to pass without their knowledge.  
  
FREEZE FRAME:  
  
Adam, still sitting at the table where he talked to Spike. Unlike the rest of the people and demons in the Initiative, his unique abilities provide him with full knowledge of what's going on.  
  
He simply doesn't care.  
  
FREEZE FRAME:  
  
A shotgun going off, held jointly by Larry and the asshole that jumped him.  
  
Kendra's, Forrest and Erik's faces just about to begin registering shock.  
  
A mixture of reactions from the rest of the crowd, mostly leaning towards horror.  
  
And a shotgun shell frozen in midair.  
  
Like Adam, Buffy is also fully aware of the mysterious timeframe.  
  
Also like Adam, she can't do anything about it.  
  
Unlike Adam, she cares very much, because the shell is headed straight for her head.  
  
CONTINUING ACTION:  
  
"Hey," Anya said. "Hey. Look at this."  
  
"What is it?" Giles asked.  
  
"Look inside the shield."  
  
Giles and Wesley stepped over to where Anya stood. "I'm afraid I don't see anything –" Wesley began. "There's nothing moving in there at all."  
  
"Yes," Anya said. "NOTHING." Xander and Cordelia walked up behind them.  
  
"That's what the man said, An," Xander said. "What are you looking at?"  
  
Cordelia said, "Nothing." Anya gave her a dirty look. "No, no, I see what you mean. Look closely. See that leaf in the air?"  
  
And then they noticed it wasn't moving.  
  
Xander, Wesley and Giles together said, "What the hell?"  
  
CONTINUING ACTION/FREEZE FRAME  
  
And so we come to the one being not affected in the least by Ms. Calendar's spell, thrown against the backseat of the car she was riding in.  
  
"Dreg!" she yelled. "Dreg!" There was no answer. She lowered the barrier and tapped him on the shoulder.  
  
He didn't even move. Where DID one get good worshippers these days? She tapped harder and then realized that no one outside was moving either.  
  
Glory, irritated, got out of the automobile and walked in front of it. The arrow, annoyingly, did NOT follow her.  
  
She spent the next five minutes inventing new swearwords, gathered her energy by draining two random people nearby, and began storming off.  
  
Oh, she was going to find whatever – whatever horrid, horrid person (or demon) was doing this to ruin her wonderful night.  
  
And KILL them.  
  
  
  
Part 12  
  
In great big quivering capital letters the size of Montreal, the power known as Glorificus (but call her that and she'll get very angry, yes, very angry indeed) was NOT HAPPY.  
  
Not happy because her feet hurt. Ever since the spell of suspended animation had begun, she'd had to walk. Several FREAKING miles. (Drive? That's what chauffeurs were for, driving. Glory didn't know how and couldn't be bothered to learn.)  
  
Not happy because her spell pointing her towards the Key was too, frozen. Certainly she knew where the arrow was pointing, but could she be expected to hoof it over hill and dale, through stream and woods, just to get there on a straight line? Hardly. (Especially not in these glorious high heels.)  
  
Not happy because it had taken her like HOURS (at least she thought it was hours; her internal clock was lousy, she wasn't wearing a watch – of all the nights to not accessorize – and of course every other timepiece in town was frozen at just past midnight) searching for whoever had suspended the animation and she hadn't found them yet.  
  
Which meant that whoever had done it, when she found them (and if it was that Slayer – grrr, what she'd do to the girl) was also NOT going to be happy. Actually, if you came down to it, they'd actually be miserable.  
  
For whatever pitiful few seconds they remained alive, that is.  
  
Okay, now. She had to think. She'd been tramping all over the damn city and gotten nothing. There had to be some way she could figure this out logically. That wasn't her usual style, but charging around had gotten her nothing except (ouch!) painfully sore feet.  
  
Right now, she didn't care who (her money was on the Slayer) or why, and how could be dealt with; what she cared about was where. So, where were the smart spellcasters centered these days?  
  
RRRRRR! She should have thought of it sooner! The suspended animation spell was covering the whole area inside the barrier. And her barrier was centered on the Hellmouth . . .  
  
So, so, so, so that meant that's where the spellcaster was! On, or near, the Hellmouth!  
  
Which was another TWO MILES or so to walk. GRRRR! CURSE this town for not having any convenient shoe stores. She contented herself with taking footwear from any convenient frozen body until she found a pair of tennies she could fit her tootsies into without squeezing too much. Gotta pamper those babies, you know, or they'll act up on you later. Then, finally in boots made for walkin', she took off on as straight a line as she could manage for the Hellmouth's opening, which to her certain knowledge was somewhere in that wreck of an abandoned high school.  
  
Along the way she ran across the Slayer, frozen in place, with some kind of bullet headed for her. Then she became aware of someone watching her, somehow. She looked around but saw no one . . . until she focused in on the Slayer herself.  
  
Why, the little thing was AWARE in there! Glory laughed and walked over to her. "Well, hello again!" She said. "Don't bother to answer – oh, that's right, you can't . . . Well, well. What's this?" She made a production of examining the shotgun shell. Then she stood there, hands on hips, and said, "Oh no. THIS will never do." And she – somehow – wrenched the shell from its position and instead pointed it so it would narrowly miss Buffy. "Now don't go getting any wrong ideas about me," Glory told her. "I still don't like you. But you've got something I want and until I get it – well, you get to live." She snorted. "I don't know why you keep fighting me like this. It really isn't like I'm planning to hurt you. As far as I'm concerned you could go out and kill ALL the vampires you wanted. But no, you just have to keep getting in my way." She growled. "I'd better go before I aim that bullet thingy back at you. And remember –" Glory smiled her sweetest smile. "Now you owe me one."  
  
And then she kept going, over hill, over dale – ah, to hell with it. It took her a while but she finally made it to the outskirts of the school. Her kingdom for a podiatrist! Anyway, adjusting her dress, she stormed inside, creating her own light a she went. She might have to hoof it, but no way was she going stumbling around there in the dark.  
  
And there the little vixen was, in the middle of a circle of candles, down in a godawful pit. She shuddered to think of her dry cleaning bill after this was all over. Glory strode to the edge of the pit and called down. "Hey. You. Yeah, you with the dark hair and the raccoon-eyes. What do you think you're doing?" She jumped down to the bottom of the pit. "I mean, do you have ANY idea what your stupid spell is doing to my plans?"  
  
"Well –" the woman began.  
  
"Don't answer, I wasn't done yet. How rude are YOU? Don't answer that either. I mean, I had this nice spell cast that was leading me directly to the Key and here your silly little time suspension fouled it ALL up." She stomped her feet again.  
  
The woman stood up. "Sorry to have so inconvenienced you."  
  
She didn't sound sorry in the least. "Well, what are you going to do about it? I don't DEAL well with disappointment."  
  
Then the woman surprised Glory by laughing. "Do you know how much I don't care? I don't know if you're the one who CAUSED what's going on outside, or if you're something really powerful just taking advantage, but I'd bet you're up to no good. So anything I can do to foul your nest –"  
  
The arrogant bitch. "I'm up to plenty of good," Glory said. "Good for me, anyway. And what's good for me IS good for the world."  
  
"Spoken like a true force of evil," the woman said, sneering.  
  
Glory laughed humorlessly. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing," she said. "You're trying to delay me to keep the spell going as long as you can." The woman looked ready to say something. "I SAID, don't talk when I'm talking. Now, from one woman to another, why are you trying to keep me down?"  
  
"I already told you," the woman said. "Anything I can do to mess up the plans of one of the bad guys. I'm not picky."  
  
"I am," Glory said. "It's one of my many charming traits." She walked forward – and hit a magical force field. "Oh, PLEASE," she said, and concentrating, forced her way through. "You really didn't think that would hold me back, did you?"  
  
The woman laughed and held her ground. "I'd had hopes."  
  
Glory's eyes narrowed. "You're not running. Why? Aren't you afraid of me?"  
  
She nodded. "I'm not stupid enough not to be. But do you see this?" She pointed to her watch.  
  
Looking at the woman's wrist, Glory saw that it was now 2:48 AM. "So?"  
  
"So," she said. "I've held up Noctus Animortus for almost three hours. Sunrise is that much closer. So, whatever you do to me –"  
  
Glory got it. No matter what happened this bitch would always think she'd won. She reached out and grabbed her by the throat. Wasn't even worth draining the sanity from.  
  
"Figures," the woman choked out just before her neck snapped. "I seem to be cursed to die this way."  
  
And then she was dead and Glory had no further use for her.  
  
Next on the agenda was getting out of this CURSED hole without getting her dress dirty.  
  
UNFREEZE  
  
The Mayor turned around as swiftly as he could and faced the Master.  
  
Heinrich growled, "What just happened?"  
  
The Mayor said, pleasantly enough, "Some kind of spell just put us in suspended animation. It wasn't quite powerful enough to affect me, but you just slid off. Sorry about that."  
  
As he remounted, Heinrich said, "Do you have any idea how long we were out?"  
  
Shaking his large head, the Mayor said, "A couple of hours. I'm sorry. I don't have a very good internal clock."  
  
"Never mind. That just gives us that much less time to find the Slayer."  
  
"True enough," the Mayor said. "Let's be off, then –"  
  
UNFREEZE  
  
Mr. Trick shook his head. "Whew. What the hell was that?"  
  
UNFREEZE  
  
When he unfroze, Adam immediately called out, "Spike!"  
  
"Little busy right now!" The vampire called out from the nearby room.  
  
"Forrest," Adam said. "Stop the operation. Now!" Sounds of a scuffle from the adjoining room, followed shortly afterwards by an angry Spike.  
  
"Lying to me again, mate?" Spike said acidly.  
  
"No. But time has passed."  
  
"Time always passes. That's what time does."  
  
"Not for us. Not for the last two hours and forty-seven minutes. We have been under a spell that freezes time."  
  
"So that would make it," Spike said, thinking, "Sometime around 3 in the morning, right?" His words dripped bitterness. "So why the bleeding hell can't I have the operation?"  
  
"Because," Adam said sadly. "We no longer have the time."  
  
Spike swore. "You have GOT to be kidding me. No, scratch that, you're not known for your wacky sense of humor."  
  
"I . . . am sorry, Spike." And Adam meant it, as much as he could.  
  
"So what I'm going to do in the next three and a half hours," Spike said, "Is find the bastard who cast that spell and show them why I'm called Spike." Then, as he began storming out, he stopped. "Can I borrow Forrest?"  
  
Adam waved his hand. "Certainly. Forrest!" he called. "Show Spike to the back entrance and follow his orders as you would mine."  
  
As he appeared in the doorway, Forrest gave a quick nod of his head and said, "I will."  
  
CONTINUING ACTION:  
  
Anya and Cordelia had taken up unofficial shield patrol duty while the rest of the group dozed as best they could, or in Giles' and Wesley's case, talked shop throughout the night. The two of them were talking about the one topic they had in common – Xander – and having a blast when Anya said, "Look. It's not frozen any more."  
  
Cordelia blinked. "How do you – you're right, everything's moving again. Huh. Hey, Wesley!"  
  
Wesley lifted his head and said, "Yes?"  
  
"The suspension spell thingy is gone."  
  
The two ex-Watchers walked up to the shield and peered through. After a second, Anya said, "What do you expect to see?"  
  
Giles blinked. "You know, I haven't the slightest." He looked at Wesley. "Do you have any clue?"  
  
Wesley shook his head. "Afraid not, sorry. I think we've been awake too long."  
  
"I'll go along with that," Giles said. "I do wish we knew what had caused it . . . "  
  
"We'll find out," Anya said perkily. When everyone looked at her she said, "Well, we always do, right?"  
  
  
  
UNFREEZE  
  
Larry grabbed the shotgun from the person who'd attacked him, then clipped the guy in the temple with the stock of the gun. The man went down, whimpering. "You're lucky," Larry said. "The gun was pointing right AT Buffy when it went off. If it'd hit her –"  
  
"You'd be a dead man," Forrest said. Buffy raised her eyebrows at that one. "I would've sworn it was heading right for you," he told Buffy. "What happened?"  
  
Not being willing to tell them that Glory had saved her, Buffy said, "I have no idea. Must've just missed me."  
  
"In any event, I am glad it missed," Kendra said. "Now. What do we do with him?" The tone in Kendra's voice implied that she thought hanging would have been too good for the bozo.  
  
An action Buffy would have endorsed had the guy not already had only a few hours to live. "I think Larry's done enough," Buffy said – and then winced from the pain in her arm.  
  
Immediately Erik was there next to her. "Okay, now we have to get you to a hospital. I don't care how superhumanly strong you are, you need to have that s—what the hell?"  
  
Everyone started screaming and panicking at the sight of something up the street. Buffy looked and saw a giant snake a couple hundred feet away with someone riding it . . .  
  
Crap. That was the Mayor. Buffy called out, "He's after me! Keep track of everyone, I'll draw him away!" Then she ran, not away from the Mayor, but towards him, waving her arms frantically. Suddenly she noticed Erik next to her. "Get away!" she yelled. "Go get everyone else safe!" To her shock as she drew a bit closer she recognized the rider as the Master.  
  
"Uh-uh," Erik said. "You still need that shoulder fixed, and when you've dealt with that guy – those guys," he said, keeping pace, "You're still going to need someone to do it."  
  
Buffy didn't have time to argue. "Okay then," she said, "But keep up. I'm not going to have time to pull you to your feet if you fall down." Erik nodded, wisely saving his breath for the run. Risking a look back, Buffy saw that Forrest, Kendra and Larry had pulled the people into some semblance of order and that everyone was running off in the opposite direction.  
  
The Mayor and the Master were following she and Erik.  
  
Hooray!  
  
Crap.  
  
  
  
Part 13  
  
Mr. Trick read books; Mr. Trick perused pamphlets; Mr. Trick scanned scrolls until he was bored out of his gourd. He THOUGHT he had an idea that would preserve his life after the end of the night, but as he kept saying, he wasn't a magician and he didn't play one on TV. He needed someone more in tune with this sort of thing.  
  
That's why he had Dalton. Unfortunately, the dude had taken off a while back to do some field research and hadn't made it back yet, and no one else who'd dropped by – with the exception of that Glory chick, and no way was Trick gonna mess with HER – had had the brains or knowledge either. Some of them had just dropped by to ransack the place, and Trick had been hard- pressed to keep them from trashing the work he and Dalton had done.  
  
But here he was, still intact – what was that? Trick stood up as someone came tearing into the shop like they were being chased by a pack of hellhounds. Only after they stopped did he recognize Dalton. "About time you got back," he began, holding up the book holding the spell. "You think this—"  
  
Dalton grabbed the book from his hand and began reading down the page. "Yes," he said quickly. "This should do it. Now –"  
  
"Whoa, whoa, slow down," Trick said. "What's your hurry? Elvis come back and you gotta make sure you score the last ticket?"  
  
"No," Dalton said breathlessly. "But the Slayer's about a half block behind me –"  
  
"What?!" Trick said, picking Dalton up by the neck. "You led her here?"  
  
"More like we were both running in the same direction," Dalton gasped.  
  
This confused Trick. "What's out there so badass the Slayer's running from it?" And then, against Dalton's strong advice, he walked to the store's front door and looked out.  
  
The Slayer – left arm held oddly – and some dude Trick'd never seen before came sprinting down the center of the street. There was an odd sound from up the block, and Trick turned his head to get a look –  
  
And threw himself to the floor of the shop, muffling a cussword. That had to be the biggest damn demon he'd ever seen. And it had a rider . . . ?  
  
"I told you," Dalton said.  
  
Trick said, "So you did." He wasn't the type for reprisals.  
  
Right then someone busted down the place's back door. Trick and Dalton looked at each other and quickly grabbed the spellbooks and Trick's notes as the Slayer slammed on the brakes at one of the room's rear entrances, the guy a half-step behind her, breathing heavy.  
  
"Oh, crap," the Slayer said. "I so do not need to deal with you right now. You got a score you want to settle with me too?" Truth be told, she looked like she'd just gone 15 rounds with the Hulk. Her clothing was ripped and she was bruised and cut all over her body. Plus there was the matter of her limp arm.  
  
Trick's response was to the point. "Not if that badass demon out there's coming through right behind you."  
  
"I think I've given him the slip for the moment," she said tiredly. "Now, you're here looking for a way to survive the night?"  
  
Trick gave Dalton a dirty look, then said. "Yes. Have a problem with that?"  
  
"Several," she said. "But right now you're not that high on my priority list. Clear out, and if the spell works, stay out of Sunnydale and I won't kill you."  
  
Whatever Trick had been expecting, it hadn't been THAT. "You're kidding me," he said.  
  
The Slayer shook her head. "Not a chance. You're a problem I want behind me. If you insist on making it physical, though –"  
  
"I think I could take you, now," Trick said.  
  
The man behind her – who carried himself like a soldier – said, "Don't be so sure of that." He didn't have any weapons but he didn't look like a fool, either.  
  
"Yeah," the Slayer said. "You're pretty tough, but Dalton there would lose a fight with Gary Coleman."  
  
Looking up at Trick, Dalton shrugged. "It's true. I'm a scholar, not a fighter."  
  
Trick looked at the Slayer and said, "So, no go on the fight. But if you're afraid of that giant snake out there –"  
  
"And you're not?" the man said.  
  
Trick didn't dignify that with a response. "So what's to stop me from going out there and simply yelling, 'Yo, Slayer in here?'  
  
"Not a damn thing," she said. "But you've got no reason to do me dirt – and remember what happened the last time you acted on impulse."  
  
Trick stiffened at that. "Point taken. You got a deal." He didn't offer to shake hands, and the Slayer didn't seem to care.  
  
The guy said, "You believe him?"  
  
The Slayer just shrugged. "Nothing I can do about it and we really do have better things to do." Trick didn't plan on it anyway. Better to get done what he had to get done.  
  
"True enough," he said. "We still have to get you to a doctor's office."  
  
"Let's hold off on that a bit," she answered.  
  
Trick snuck a look out the front door of the shop. No one in sight. "Dalton," he said. "Get the stuff." He picked up the book he'd been reading. Dalton grabbed the spell items and headed for the door behind Trick.  
  
As Dalton followed, he asked, "What was it she said that made you go along with it?"  
  
"Mind your own business," Trick said a bit harshly. Then he said, "Let's just say that Slayer blood ain't all it's cracked up to be."  
  
Dalton frowned. "I don't get it." They made their way down the road quickly, away from the carnage.  
  
"I didn't expect you to," was Trick's answer. "Now come on, where do we have to go? We don't have all night."  
  
Dalton said, "Actually –"  
  
"Shut up," Trick said.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Somehow, Forrest had been separated from everyone else in the confusion. He hadn't liked running but wasn't suicidal enough to try to attack something that big, at least not without air support. But in the chaos that followed – he had seen Kendra and Larry get most of the civilians to safety, though some were crushed and some simply ran off by themselves –  
  
Well, like he said. He'd been separated. And now here he was by himself, in a small wooded area. He'd killed one vampire already who'd been looking for a quick meal and had dodged a couple of others. As soon as he got his bearings he'd have to try to find a way to get back to the others.  
  
But in a dark woods in the middle of the night it's hard to get oriented. Thankfully it was a clear, moonlit night or he'd be bumping into trees. God bless Sunnydale for smog-free skies, if nothing else.  
  
After walking for a few minutes Forrest came to a clearing he recognized, though he wasn't sure how. He peered around in the darkness, trying to figure out when he'd been here before, when he thought he saw a cave entrance.  
  
And that's when it hit him. This was where he'd run into Adam.  
  
This was where he'd died.  
  
Superstition wasn't Forrest's thing, but this was still a little too spooky for words. But at least now he had some idea of where he was, and how to get out of the woods. He kept the cave to his right and looked for the scraggly pine he'd seen the first time –  
  
There it was. He walked towards it, but as he started walking he heard a noise coming from inside the cave.  
  
He couldn't help himself, though he wished he were armed. If that was Adam coming out again –  
  
But it wasn't. To Forrest's astonishment, it was Hostile 17 that came walking out of the cave. After a few seconds he spotted Forrest and said, "What the hell? I thought all you Initiative blokes were trapped down below." There was someone in the darkness behind him, waiting silently.  
  
"Obviously not," Forrest said. "Now . . . holy shit."  
  
Because the figure behind Hostile 17 . . .  
  
Was Forrest himself.  
  
But some sick, twisted version, all cyborged out.  
  
Spike said, "How the hell is this even possible?"  
  
Forrest shoved the vampire aside, ignoring his protests, and confronted himself. "What are you?"  
  
"Forrest 2.0."  
  
"I can't believe you let this happen to yourself!"  
  
"I didn't let it happen," the cyborg said. "You did."  
  
Hostile 17 said, "Not that this little family reunion isn't fascinating, but I have places to go and people to kill and with that chip you wankers stuck in my head I can't do the nasty myself. So chop-chop there, Forrest."  
  
In unison Forrest and his evil twin said, "I don't think so." Neither's gaze left the other's.  
  
"I don't know if you caught this, mate," the vampire told the cyborg sarcastically, "But Adam told you to help ME."  
  
"I know." Still, the other Forrest didn't move.  
  
"So come on, then! There's someone I need to kill."  
  
"He'll be right there," Forrest said. "Or maybe not."  
  
The vampire said, "the two of you are going to fight, aren't you?" Forrest and his double nodded. "Oh, sodding hell. I might as well have stayed in bed." Then he stormed off.  
  
Not that Forrest and the cyborg noticed.  
  
They were too busy trying to kill each other.  
  
  
  
Part 14  
  
Kendra and Larry gathered as many people as they could together, which was about half of those they'd had before the vampire had come through riding the giant serpent.  
  
Larry spoke to everyone while Kendra kept an eye out for stragglers and vampires. During the chaos she'd killed three vampires, and Larry had gotten one with the shotgun which he'd then staked. "Okay, folks," he said. "We've got a couple of hours –"  
  
A couple? Kendra's head shot up and she looked at the sky. She had thought it only an hour or so past midnight –  
  
But from the position of the moon and the stars, it was clearly only a few hours before daybreak. How had this happened?  
  
And, also, how did the boy know? It had taken Kendra years of Slayer training to be able to read the sky –  
  
"Isn't that right?" Larry was asking her.  
  
"I am sorry," Kendra said. "I was thinking about something. Would you repeat the question?"  
  
"Sure," Larry said. "I was just saying how the incident with the vampire riding that demon pretty much proved that we're still in danger – but that there's no point cowering in fear, and if there was anything they wanted to do in the three or so hours we've got until daybreak they should say it." And the group was talking among themselves.  
  
Kendra nodded. "A good idea. I will kill any vampires who get in the way." She made a production out of looking around at the night sky again. "I agree with your estimate of the time, by the way."  
  
"I wasn't looking for the validation, but thanks." A pause. "Let me guess: Slayer training?"  
  
Kendra nodded. "Yes. And where did you gain your knowledge of the night sky?"  
  
Amazingly, Larry blushed and mumbled something.  
  
"What was that?"  
  
"I said, in the Cub Scouts."  
  
Kendra was puzzled. Her limited exposure to American culture had not included this reference. "What's a Cub Scout?"  
  
Right then, Larry was interrupted by a member of the crowd. "Well, we talked about it," the woman said. "And, well, it all comes down to two things. Food and, well, um . . ."  
  
Larry laughed. "Sex."  
  
The woman nodded.  
  
"I was kind of thinking that way myself, honestly," Larry said. "Any of you out there gay?" Gay? Larry preferred men?  
  
Two women in the back raised their hands, looked at each other, and shrugged their shoulders. No men did, though, so Larry said, "I guess I get to go eat. Any of you who want to, pair off and we'll find you a house." After a few minutes, six couples came forward. "Okay, you all head into the first open houses we find, in this order." Larry numbered the couples. "The rest of us will go round up some grub."  
  
"And I shall still kill vampires," Kendra said.  
  
"We can only hope," was Larry's response.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Glory drained enough people on the way back to give herself back her speed, and ran back to the car. The dress was going to need to be replaced, but no way was that going to concern her now.  
  
Dreg had crashed the silly thing, of course, when he saw that she was no longer in it. But it was driveable, and she'd take the replacement costs out of his hide. Literally. Minion hide went for quite a bit on the open market.  
  
The important thing was that the spell had not yet worn off – the arrow still hovered there in the sky, impatiently. She got into the back of the limo and said, "Follow the arrow, Dreg."  
  
"Y-yes, your most worshipful –"  
  
Glory said, "Did it ever occur to you, Dreg, that those incessant compliments of yours might be getting just a little bit nauseating?"  
  
"Why, no, vision of visions."  
  
"Good. See that they don't." And they drove off to follow the arrow . . .  
  
towards the edge of the town, and beyond.  
  
* * * * *  
  
It was some work, but they finally got to a clinic. They hadn't run into the Mayor-Master combination, but they had had to chop up a gang of thug zombies who for some reason were really pissed off at Xander. They weren't really a challenge so much as a nuisance.  
  
They carefully broke down the front door and Erik led the way to a back room. "Good," he said. "Everything I need should be here." Buffy hopped up on the table and carefully pulled up her left sleeve. Erik washed his hands and put on a pair of rubber gloves.  
  
"I do have a Slayer healing factor," she said. "Are you sure this is –"  
  
"Yes," he said. "We need to get it back in place. Hold on, this is going to hurt –"  
  
Buffy laughed as he grabbed the arm and then yowled in pain as she felt the shoulder-joint pop back into place. "What was that?" she said.  
  
Now it was Erik's turn to laugh. "I told you it was going to hurt," he said.  
  
"Yeah, you did." Experimentally she moved the arm. It still had the range it had, but the area around the joint hurt like hell. "Any painkillers around here?"  
  
"Gimme a sec." He rummaged around and came up with . . . Advil? "Nothing stronger?"  
  
"The only stronger stuff around here would make you drowsy," Erik said. "Probably not a good idea tonight."  
  
Buffy sighed. "You're right. Pass it over." She went and got a cup of water from the faucet and washed it down.  
  
"I don't need to tell you to try to not strain it all that much," Erik said. "Even though it's back in the socket it's going to be sore for a while."  
  
As Buffy tossed away the cup she said, "I'd kind of already figured that one out . . . "  
  
Erik laughed again. "Yeah, I guess you would have."  
  
"And, of course," Buffy said. "If I need to strain it –"  
  
"I understand," Erik said. As they walked to the clinic's front door, he asked, "So, why do you do this?"  
  
"Do what?" Buffy asked.  
  
"The Slaying, all of it," Erik said. "I mean, it's not that I'm not glad you're out there, but why risk your life like that?"  
  
"Why do you?" Buffy turned his question back on him.  
  
Erik shrugged. "It's my job – it WAS my job, I should say."  
  
"Same deal. Only I don't get money and free room and board out of it."  
  
"There was a sign that said, 'I want you to be a vampire Slayer?' Because if there was I missed it." His tone was light; he wasn't trying to be insulting.  
  
Now Buffy's laugh was somewhat more bitter. "Nope. I didn't volunteer, I got drafted. But I keep doing it because no one else can."  
  
"What about the Initiative?"  
  
"What about it?" Buffy shrugged and was immediately sorry she had. "I mean, the concept was good but the execution sucked. Right now there's still part of it left but all they're doing is being a kind of strike force – they're reacting to threats rather than trying to co-opt the demons and vampire for their own ends."  
  
"So it's not that no one else can," Erik said. "It's that nobody does it better."  
  
Buffy took that as intended, simply as part of the conversation rather than as a shot. She did her best mock-British accent, pretended to hold a gun, and said, "Summers. Buffy Summers."  
  
"Licensed to stake."  
  
They both laughed, then almost as one peered out the front window of the clinic into the street. "No one?" he asked.  
  
"It's a ghost town," Buffy said  
  
Erik laughed nervously and they walked outside.  
  
He'd just turned to ask her another question when something snaked down from the sky and snapped off his head. His decapitated corpse flopped to the sidewalk.  
  
Horrified, Buffy looked up and saw the Mayor perched on the roof. Spitting out the head, he laughed, "Bet you didn't see that one coming, did you?"  
  
Buffy couldn't say a word.  
  
Still on his back, the Master said, "Well, go ahead and run. It's not going to be any fun if you just stand there."  
  
Buffy didn't have to be told twice.  
  
  
  
Part 15  
  
  
  
Spike swore, Spike cursed, Spike cussed a blue streak, Spike pounded the living hell out of a pair of hapless demons, but none of that put him in a better mood.  
  
This had probably been his best remaining chance to get the damn chip gone and all he'd gotten all night was a lecture on philosophy from a bleeding cyborg.  
  
He kicked down a chainlink fence as he headed back to his hideout. But just before he got there he saw something that immediately lightened his mood.  
  
Not that it made it a good night or anything, but it made it at least marginally less intolerable. There he was, standing at the edge of his graveyard . . .  
  
Colin.  
  
The god-damned little Anointed himself. Spike had always thought he'd let the twerp off way too easy last time.  
  
He walked right up to the kid and said, "Hello there, Anointed . . . "  
  
To his disappointment the kid didn't look scared. "Spike," he said. "I was told you lived around here."  
  
"I do," Spike said. "Come by for a social call?"  
  
"Actually, no," Colin said. "I came by to take my revenge."  
  
"Look at the little man with the big words," Spike said. "What revenge? You can't exactly outmuscle me, you know."  
  
"You're right," the kid said. "But THEY can." He pointed behind Spike.  
  
Spike laughed. "Nice try, mate," he said. "But that trick was old when I was born." He slapped the Anointed into the fence and was about ready to hit him again when he was suddenly picked up from behind and thrown into the street. He looked up and saw three vampires he'd never met striding towards him. Their average size was dumptruck.  
  
"These are a few of the Master's former servants," Colin said. "They were annoyed when they heard how you'd treated me . . ." `  
  
Spike swore again, got up, and ran. This was NOT shaping up to be his night.  
  
Eventually, he managed to give his pursuers the slip and holed up underneath a broken-down station wagon until dawn came. He hoped like hell this wasn't the day they decided to take the car to the mechanic.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Forrest fought Forrest until both were exhausted. And yes, the cyborg was stronger and had more endurance, but the human was fighting on adrenaline and righteous anger. Occasionally, occasionally, that was enough to make the difference, and this was one of those times.  
  
They separated, both almost ready to drop. The human said, "How dare you."  
  
"How dare I what?" The cyborg was confused.  
  
"How dare you exist." The human threw a two-handed punch at the cyborg's head; the cyborg grunted and smacked the human in the stomach. They parted again.  
  
"I had no choice," the cyborg said. Then, sneering, "Not that I'm not an improvement."  
  
Breathing heavily, the human said, "You are a perversion."  
  
"Yes. That's what the lower being always calls the higher being." The cyborg picked the human up and threw him into a tree. Dazed, woozy, the human got to his feet and staggered into the nearby cave, where he scrabbled for a weapon, anything. His hands closed around something  
  
"Appropriate," the cyborg said. "This is the place where you died the first time." He prepared himself for the killing blow.  
  
Summoning every last shred of energy he had left, Forrest slammed the rock he held into the cyborg's head. "Then it's your turn."  
  
The cyborg went down, and the human hit it once, then twice more with the rock.  
  
It didn't get back up.  
  
Seconds later, Forrest (now the one and only) also collapsed to the ground. Exhausted, bloody, beaten, and knowing he was going to die in a matter of hours, he didn't care.  
  
He was happy.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The limousine drove until it was blocked by the smoking wreckage of a twenty-car pileup. "I am quite sorry, Glorious one," Dreg said. "But it appears that from this point on if you wish to follow the arrow that we are going to have to walk."  
  
As they got out of the car, Glory said, "Give me a piggyback ride."  
  
Dreg blinked, opened his mouth several times, and then said, "As you wish, your sublimity. But my back is not that strong –"  
  
Glory burst out laughing. "I was kidding, Dreg!" She slapped him on the back hard enough that he almost lost his balance. "Where's your sense of humor?" Then, yanking him upright, she said, "For that matter, where's your sense of balance? When we get back, I want you to do some tai chi. It's wonderfully centering."  
  
"Um –"  
  
"Just say, "yes, Magnificent Glory,' and let's move on. I don't have time for your tiny brain to actually catch up."  
  
Finally, Dreg did something smart and said, "Yes, Magnificent Glory."  
  
Glory smiled. "Good, you're catching on. Now let's follow that arrow."  
  
They walked the last quarter mile or so – Glory tamping down her speed to let Dreg follow, not because she was nice, but because SOMEONE would have to carry that key and it wasn't going to be her.  
  
But as they got close and closer to the barrier Glory got more and more pissed off. "Where IS it?"  
  
"Well, the arrow's still saying –"  
  
"Shut up, Dreg."  
  
And then they got to the barrier. A few humans stood there talking; they didn't seem to have noticed her yet. Normally this would have sent Glory into a foul-tempered snit, but she wasn't in the mood to have to deal with them.  
  
And still the arrow pointed forwards.  
  
She walked back the way she came until she and Dreg were shadowed by the pileup, taking a wide detour around the handful of corpses that lay in her way. Then she stomped on the pavement and punched a couple of the cars.  
  
Knowing damn well better than to interrupt her munificence in the middle of one of her tantrums, Dreg waited until she was done and said, "What is wrong, radiance of the multiverse?"  
  
"Isn't it obvious?" Dreg said nothing. "No, I guess to you it wouldn't be. They've OBVIOUSLY taken the Key and hidden it outside of town somewhere."  
  
"Well, surely they cannot have taken it far –"  
  
"Who KNOWS how long they've had?" Glory said. "It could be halfway to the North Pole by now. I HATE the cold, Dreg. It gives me goosebumps and you KNOW what they do to my complexion."  
  
"Yes, Glory." Glory was cranky and it was time to get her back to the car.  
  
As they began walking, Glory suddenly started shaking and said, "Not now, not now . . . "  
  
And then her brilliance's ever so-human alter ego was there. Ben looked around and said, "What the hell happened?" He fixed a threatening glare on Dreg. "What's she been up to this time?" Then he glance up into the sky and said, "And what the hell is that?"  
  
"I'll explain on the way back, oh other side of her magnificence."  
  
"You'd better."  
  
As they drove away, Dreg noticed the arrow moved around widely . . .  
  
Always pointing right back to that one spot right outside the barrier.  
  
He would have to inform her wondrousness.  
  
That is, if Ben didn't kill him first.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The Mayor/Master combination gave her about a quarter mile head start before they came charging after her.  
  
Under normal circumstances Buffy would have been confident in her ability to outrun or escape the pursuit. But these circumstances weren't even in the same hemisphere as normal. She'd been running and fighting all night. Exhausted didn't begin to cover how she felt; when she'd told Trick she could have taken him it was mostly bluff.  
  
And oddly, she was reminded of a comic book Xander had made her read. The Thing was getting the crap kicked out of him by some extraterrestrial pro wrestler could hold out.  
  
The Thing says back, "Are you kidding? That deserted me two rounds ago. I'm fightin' on sheer good looks alone."  
  
As she stagger-ran down the street she thought she knew exactly how the Thing felt.  
  
The Mayor and the Master were cheering as if they could sense their victory. Buffy could say she was running to make their victory as costly as possible, but that would have been a lie. She was just running because it was easier than not.  
  
And they were toying with her. When she ran inside an antique shop she got exactly ten seconds to catch her breath before the Mayor's huge demonsnake head crashed through the window and the Master said, "You'd better keep running, girl."  
  
And so she did keep running. Until finally, finally, she couldn't run any more. She stood just around a corner and waited.  
  
If she had to die she was at least going to go down on her terms.  
  
Suddenly a car pulled up behind her. A muffled voice she couldn't quite place through her exhaustion said, "Get in."  
  
She just blinked. Was this some hallucination caused by her exhaustion or –  
  
"Unless you want to die – I'd be happy to leave you here – I'd suggest you get in my car."  
  
Then Buffy placed the voice and got in. If this was a hallucination it was a damned good one. "Don't ask any stupid questions," her rescuer said. "If I'm going to do this I'm going to need quiet. Do you think you can manage that for once in your life?" Then, as the Mayor and the Master rounded the corner and noticed Buffy's ride, they roared.  
  
The car hung a wide U and began to accelerate down the road. At first it looked like the demon/vampire combination was going to catch up to them – they had this annoying habit of barreling through inconvenient things like cars and buildings, while their ride couldn't quite manage that. They had a narrow escape when they had to hang a wide turn around a stalled municipal bus.  
  
Which of course the Mayor could slither right over, and the Master decided to unleash his inner stuntman and made a daredevil leap onto the top of the car.  
  
Buffy had no energy left. She reached outside the window with her right arm and got it bitten for her trouble, without even connecting. "Hit the brakes," she said.  
  
The car slammed to a halt and the Master went flying off. Then, before the Mayor could catch up with them, they sped forward – over his body – and rounded a series of turns.  
  
"Look behind us," her rescuer commanded.  
  
Buffy did so. "Nothing," she said.  
  
"Good. Let's go." They got out of the car and ran a couple of doors down into a nearby house where Buffy collapsed to the floor. "We should be safe here until sunrise." Buffy raised her head enough to look at a nearby clock radio. It was 5:38 AM. God, she'd run from the bastards for nearly an hour.  
  
When she raised her head again it was almost dawn. Her rescuer sat there. "Why –"  
  
"Why did I save you?"  
  
"Yeah," Buffy said. "I mean, I would have expected you to shove me at them – or at least hit me with the car."  
  
"I was tempted. Believe me, I was tempted. But I couldn't do it."  
  
"Don't tell me it was out of the goodness of your heart."  
  
The rescuer laughed. "Hardly that. No. Think about it. What did I just do?"  
  
"Saved my life."  
  
"Exactly. I saved your life. Without me, you would have died."  
  
"Point made with sledgehammer," Buffy said wearily.  
  
"You still don't get it. Well, I'm going to make sure you do. Without me, you're dead. You're a bloody smear on the pavement. And not that I wouldn't have gotten a few twinges of joy, but they would have been brief. And besides, I would have been dead in a couple of hours anyway. No, this way the torture gets to linger. You see, this means that every single breath you take for the rest of your life –"  
  
Buffy's breath caught.  
  
"Every single breath you take, you owe to me."  
  
And then Principal Snyder smirked as the sun rose.  
  
"Have a nice life, Summers."  
  
  
  
Epilogue  
  
  
  
Under a gnarled tree at the highest point under the shield, as morning rapidly drew nearer, Dalton and Trick stood on a blanket.  
  
"You're sure about this?" Trick asked.  
  
"Well," Dalton said, laughing nervously, "The good news is that if it doesn't work we won't know about it . . ."  
  
Trick frowned and said, "You won't know about it first, I can guarantee you that."  
  
Shrugging, Dalton said, "That's the best I can tell you. At this point the spell either works or it doesn't. But with the work we did I'm, well, I think it will."  
  
That was likely the best Trick was going to get. Dalton had brains but the dude was more wishy-washy than Charlie Brown.  
  
"Well then," Trick said, clapping his hands, "We'd better get going then."  
  
Dalton quickly spread the yellow powder in a ring around the two of them and the tree. Then he handed Trick a bloom off a resurrection plant and said, "You know when," and Trick nodded. Then Dalton began to chant, invoking three different gods of the dead as well as a demon lord known to be friendly to vampires, with Trick echoing him at the right times.  
  
The scholar finished the chant and nodded to trick, who said, "And we who have died and still live shall do so again," and crushed the bloom as the sun first appeared over the horizon.  
  
They didn't die.  
  
Dalton let out a whoop and said, "We did it!"  
  
Trick let himself smile. "Yes, we did." Then he covered himself in the blanket. "Hope you brought one." Dalton turned, saw the sun peering over the horizon, and began sprinting down the hillside.  
  
He barely made it to the shelter of a nearby grove of trees; his skin was smoldering as Trick approached.  
  
"Why didn't you bring me one?" Dalton demanded.  
  
Trick chuckled and said, "You didn't ask."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Dawn was fast approaching.  
  
There she came, around the side of Cordy's car.  
  
Xander loved puns.  
  
As that ol' devil morning came closer, pretty much everyone was awake. Tara had finally recovered from the effects of the teleportation, while Dawn had drifted in and out all night. Even Joyce Summers had joined them; after the doctors had told her she didn't have a concussion she'd gotten up and browbeaten the Initiative into taking her here.  
  
She'd been pissed as hell at Riley – apparently he'd told her that both her daughters were okay. Xander frowned, thinking of that. He got the motivation, but the actions were just another piece in the dark and moody puzzle that had become Riley Finn. Xander hoped Riley could work through his difficulties, because he didn't want to see Buffy hurt again by yet another off-kilter boyfriend.  
  
Not that Riley had no cause for complaint, but certainly he had no reason to head off the deep end.  
  
Anyway. Morning and all.  
  
Sleepily, Anya said, "Do we know the barrier's coming down at dawn?"  
  
"Well, there are variables –" Wesley began, then caught himself. "Not as such, no. But we do have good reason to believe it well."  
  
"Good reason?" Xander asked.  
  
Giles fielded that one. "Noctus Animortus ends in a few moments. There would be no point in having the barrier-spell last any longer." From somewhere, Riley had snagged a cell phone, which rang.  
  
"Yeah," Willow said tentatively. "But this is Glory. One step above Drusilla, remember?"  
  
Nodding, Giles said, "That's as may be. But if her behavior proves less than rational then when morning comes we can at least work to bring down the shield ourselves without having to worry about releasing a horde of monsters upon an unsuspecting populace."  
  
Riley put the phone away. "We're not going to need to worry."  
  
"Your . . . friends?" Giles asked.  
  
"Yeah," Riley said. "They've got a way figured of cracking the thing just in case."  
  
"Good."  
  
Turning to Wesley and Cordelia, Giles said, "Sorry to have dragged you down here for nothing."  
  
Wesley smiled ruefully. "It wasn't nothing. I enjoyed the company."  
  
"Yeah," Cordelia said. "It'd been way too long anyway."  
  
"Still – well, it just seems like there wasn't a point to you being here."  
  
Cordelia laughed. "Who says every time we get together there has to be a point?"  
  
"If nothing else," Willow said, "They made the night a little easier to get through. And beside, otherwise we would have had to take the bus."  
  
Wesley smiled and bowed slightly. Cordelia smiled and hugged her, then frowned and said, "Only a little easier?"  
  
"And I finally got the chance to meet both of you," Anya said. "You're nothing like they said you were."  
  
Cordelia and Wesley both glared daggers at Giles, who said, "Um. Yes. Let's not forget that when the barrier drops all is not necessarily over."  
  
Impatiently, Riley said, "We still need to make sure Buffy's okay."  
  
Joyce – who'd mostly been content to stand there and huddle around Dawn – said, "I was wondering when someone was going to get around to that."  
  
Confidently, Xander said, "Buffy's tough. She's fine."  
  
"We're still going to need to find her," Giles said.  
  
"Would you like us to stay around?" Wesley said. "There's nothing urgent we need up in LA right now –"  
  
"Well, except our beauty sleep," Cordelia added. "But we can hold that off if you need the help."  
  
"Why wait to sleep, Cor?" Xander said easily. "Fifteen minutes usually does it for you, right?"  
  
"While you could sleep for a YEAR and not look any better," Cordelia snapped back. Then they both laughed.  
  
Riley cleared his throat and tapped his watch. "Sunrise in five, four, three, two . . ."  
  
The shield came down.  
  
And the dead of the night were replaced by the living of the day.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Rupert Giles sighed as he finally entered his apartment at sometime past noon. It had taken them that long to find Buffy and clean up the magic shop, which had looked as though a picky hurricane had gone through it. Over Anya's protests but to no one else's surprise, he'd declared the shop closed for the day and gone home.  
  
Buffy had been in pretty bad shape, though it was nothing rest and her healing factor couldn't cure. She'd seen her mom and Dawn safe, mentioned something incoherent about keeping an eye out for Mr. Trick, and then promptly collapsed into a deep sleep. It had looked like she'd been through a rough night, but no one had been in any hurry to get the story.  
  
Giles paused as he looked around the room; it looked like someone had gone through here, too. Some of his magic books were piled on the living room couch, and his stash of emergency magic supplies had also been rifled.  
  
Unlike the shop, though, it looked like this had been the work of someone who'd known what they were doing. Giles yawned. Whatever had happened, it could wait.  
  
He walked upstairs, but just as he was about to get into bed he noticed a piece of paper on the pillow.  
  
And the writing – it was Jenny's.  
  
  
  
Dear Rupert [the letter began],  
  
I hope you're alive and well. Dear gods and goddesses, I was hoping to find you here. But it looks like that just isn't going to happen. Could you do me a favor? Find who or whatever drove you all out of Sunnydale and beat the hell out of them for me.  
  
I'm probably going to piss them off anyway. I hope you don't mind, but I needed to borrow some of your things for a spell that needs to be cast. I'm going to try a suspended animation spell; I don't know if it will work or how long I'll be able to keep it if it does, but if I don't try something the place is going to be a smoking ruin when morning comes.  
  
By the way, re the afterlife: no clue. You'd think the powers that be would let us keep some wisdom to pass along, but right now I don't know any more about it than you do.  
  
I tore up the first draft of this note, Rupert; all it said was, "Thanks for the books – I did the spell, love, Jenny," or something like that. But that wasn't long enough.  
  
That wasn't nearly long enough. There's so much I have to say –  
  
So much I never got the chance to.  
  
I'm no fool, Rupert; I know how long it's been. You've had two and a half years and by now I know—  
  
Well, I certainly hope you've managed to move on. You're a great guy, you know; you have so much to offer the right woman. And while I like to think I was that woman, you and I both know damn well there's no such thing as JUST one true love.  
  
Life's too short for that. Trust me on that one.  
  
That's not all that's important, though. I never got the chance to apologize for my betrayal. I never got to hear you forgive me. I died with all of that hanging fire.  
  
Let me say it, then: Rupert, I'm sorry. I never should have done what I did. What I owed my family is nothing compared to what I owed all of you. I let you down, and again – again – I hope you can find it somewhere in your heart to forgive me.  
  
I also hope you got to make use of that spell I was working on when I died. Angel – well, he deserved his chance again too. It was our own curse that made him evil – our own curse that caused my death. I don't blame him. If I'd told you – well, maybe it wouldn't have happened.  
  
Rupert, forgive him. He knew not what he did.  
  
And now – and now I think I need to get going. Sunnydale isn't going to be able to save itself, and whatever I can do to help it get through the night –  
  
Well, it won't be enough. But maybe it'll tip the balance in my favor.  
  
Have a good life, England.  
  
I love you.  
  
Jenny  
  
  
  
Tears forming in his eyes, Giles whispered, "Oh, Jenny – oh, Jenny. I forgive you. I forgave you a long time ago."  
  
If he listened hard, he could almost hear a sigh of relief. 


End file.
